Suite Dreams Collection
by the-lovely-anomaly
Summary: A collection of oneshots depicting the dreams of our beloved Suite Life characters. Anyone is permitted to join. Submissions will be accepted until sometime in December.
1. Intro by TLA

**Greetings everyone! Welcome to the all-new Suite Dreams Collection, an integrated assortment of one-shots by various fanfiction writers depicting the dreams of our beloved **_**Suite Life **_**characters. I started this collection mainly because of my own fascination with dreams and my goal is for people to dive into the minds of these characters—into their deepest thoughts and feelings. These thoughts and feelings don't have to be canon. In fact, I intend for everyone to interpret the characters individually. I'm far more interested in creativity and writing quality. As far as pairings are concerned (since they seem to be such a focal aspect on this forum), any and all are welcome, and that includes slash pairings. The only exception to this rule is twincest, which will not be permitted whatsoever. **

**One-shots can be as long or as short as the author wants to make them, and can be about ANY **_**Suite Life **_**character (even a non-regular one). They can be written in any format, be of any rating (even M), encompass things from either or both SL shows (crossovers are fair game), and can even have OC's. They **_**must**_**, however, contain a dream sequence. This dream sequence does not necessarily have to take up the entire fic (you can have your character be awake at the beginning, or have them simply remember a dream they had in the past), but so long as a dream is present somewhere, the fic will be accepted. :)**

**If anyone has any questions, please either PM me or post them on my forum, under "Sweet Dreams Collection" (yeah, I slightly changed the title :P) **

**Have fun! I look forward to seeing what people create. :) **

[ - ]

_Sweet dreams are made of this_

_Who am I to disagree?_

_I travel the world and the seven seas_

_Everybody is looking for something_

-"Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics

[ - ]

Rebecca was drowsy. Sitting in front of her computer screen, rubbing sleep from her eyes, she racked her brain for a new fanfiction idea. It would be a _Suite Life_ fanfiction, that much was for sure. But what else? What would it be called? What would it be about? So many ideas raced through her head that she could barely concentrate, but none that she had the will to work on.

_This is hopeless, _she thought. Usually, she was so innovative—so apt to have spur-of-the-moment epiphanies for writing projects. Why was it that she couldn't have one of them now? She was motivated to write. She wanted to write until all hours of the night and keep going into the morning. She wanted to write fast, without second thought—without worry or strain. But alas...at that very moment, she happened to be ailing from the ever-so-dreaded "writer's block" epidemic that all writers come down with once in a while. It bore down into her head like a virus inside a cell, and there ate away at her muse.

It could be days, weeks, even months, before she returned to normal. It all depended on her resistance.

Rebecca blamed her writer's block on college. Academic, professional writing tended to be a kill-joy to creative writing, and Rebecca was sick of it. She'd done it to the point where it literally induced nausea whenever she looked at a blank Microsoft Word page.

But she wasn't going to let that stop her. She _needed_ to write, and by God she was going to. She just had to think of something. Anything...

She typed a sentence—nothing dramatic or deep, just something to get a few words down—but then groaned in disgust and deleted it. She typed another one, this one longer and little more poetic than the one before, but resolved to delete it as well.

She sighed. _Think, Rebecca, think! _She urged herself. She found inner encouragement to be most helpful in situations like this. _You're the-lovely-anomaly. Now damn it, write something lovely! _

She tried to will herself to write—to channel that imaginative part of her that she believed was still in her somewhere, beneath the writer's block. She got up, walked around, went to the kitchen for a drink of water, listened to music videos on YouTube, and then brought up the Word page again. For a moment, she felt refreshed. But not for long. Almost as soon as the feeling came, it vanished. The sight of the blank document was disheartening.

Finally, Rebecca said to herself, "That's it, I give up," and turned her computer off. She decided she was going to sleep for a while and try to come up with something later.

Little did she know that sleep would indeed be the answer to her problem.

So Rebecca turned off her computer and crawled into bed. As she pulled the covers up to just below her neck, she thought about what she would do when she awoke. Definitely not get back on her computer and try to write again—not for a while, anyway. Perhaps clean her room? Heh, yeah right. She couldn't even think that with a straight face. Perhaps start reading a book? Likely. Perhaps watch some TV? Possibly. Perhaps...perhaps...

She dozed off with that word on her mind.

Shortly afterwards, she found herself on a stage. And not just any stage, but a stage situated on the Sky Deck of the fictional cruise liner, the _S.S. Tipton_. She had no idea how she got there but found it quite amusing—that is, until a spotlight switched on and shown down on her, revealing an audience that she could have sworn had not been there a moment previously.

Almost immediately, she examined her body to make sure she wasn't naked. Relieved to find herself fully clothed, she looked out at the many faces staring at her, smiling sheepishly at the realization that they were waiting for her to do something.

"So..." she finally spoke, trying her best to sound confident even though she was anything but. "How about a joke?"

There was no response from the crowd. Just silence.

She swallowed and licked her lips. "So this guy walks into a bar—"

"What the heck are you doing?" a voice interrupted her from behind.

She jumped and shot her head back towards where it came from and was nearly struck dumb to see none other than Zachary Martin from _The Suite Life _ascending the stage and coming up next to her.

"What do you mean?" she managed to ask, though it was clear that she was almost too astounded for words. She probably shouldn't have been given where she was, but she couldn't help it; it wasn't every day one got to see a beloved character from Disney Channel.

"You really think these people want to hear jokes?" he said, his voice indicating that he thought the answer was obvious.

She shrugged. "I honestly have no idea what they want."

"They want stories!"

She looked at him blankly. "Stories?"

"Yeah, stories," clarified someone else behind her.

Again, she turned to her head, this time seeing Zack's twin brother, Cody, mounting the stage and approaching her. "You've been 'wowing' people with your original stories," he told her. "Well, they want more."

"But I haven't got any more," Rebecca confessed guiltily, suddenly feeling bad that she had not been able to come up with anything before going to bed.

There was an upheaval of "boo"-s and groans emanating from the audience.

"How can that be possible?" Cody questioned, baffled. "You must have _some_ words left to say."

"Oh, I'm sure I do," Rebecca admitted, "but I don't know where they are right now."

Cody placed his hand over his chest and gasped. "I _never_ thought I would see the day when _the-lovely-anomaly _lost her words."

"It happens to all writers," Rebecca defended herself. "Even the best ones. It's commonly referred to as 'writer's block.'"

"You know," added the unmistakable voice of Bailey, who was in the midst of making her way to the stage as well, "Writer's block isn't really the inability to write. It's the fear of writing something stupid."

Rebecca considered that. She'd never thought of it that way but it did make sense.

"It's a byproduct of your ego," Bailey continued, standing before her. "You feel like you literally can't write, but really your psyche just isn't letting you."

Rebecca crossed her arms, interested, not even paying attention to the crowd any more. "And how am I supposed to cure that?" she wanted to know.

"Inspiration."

"Not as simple as it sounds. Inspiration comes and goes as it pleases."

"It's coming to you right now," Cody said.

"What do you mean?"

"You're dreaming."

Rebecca looked at him, wide-eyed and agape. "I'm dreaming?"

"Yeah," he said, "dreaming."

She looked from him to his brother, and then from his brother to Bailey, still amazed.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Zack put in. "I know how much you wish we were real..."

"So..."—she abruptly turned her attention back to Zack—"you're all just in my head? Just mental manifestations of the _Suite Life_ characters?"

She wasn't entirely sure why she'd asked that as the answer was pretty apparent, but she attributed her uncertainty to the realization that she was dreaming. It was a rarity to be aware of dreams while they were happening. Almost psychedelic, in a way.

"Exactly!" Bailey replied to her question. "We're just images that have been stored in your brain."

Rebecca glanced around her, dazed. "This is bizarre!" she exclaimed. "So everything you say is just me speaking to myself?"

Bailey nodded.

"Yeah," Cody said. "Not unlike your stories."

"But...why would I be speaking to myself through you guys?"

"Why _not_!" came a distinct woman's voice from behind.

Again, Rebecca turned, seeing a lavishly-dressed London Tipton scurrying up the stage steps in glittery high heels.

"We rock," she declared. "Once you see us—especially me—we never leave your head!"

Rebecca had to roll her eyes. Even in her dreams, London was her normal egotistical self.

"I should be a perfect source of inspiration for you," she said confidently.

"Oh really?" Rebecca challenged.

"Well, if seeing me hasn't inspired you to do something with your hideous hair by now, nothing will."

"London!" Bailey scolded her.

"Hey, I happen to like my hair this way," Rebecca said. "Messy is in!"

"In your dreams, maybe."

Rebecca couldn't help giggling at that statement.

"But seriously, though, you don't understand how you're getting inspired right now?" pressed Cody.

Rebecca shrugged. "Sorry...no."

"Sheesh, for someone who tries to be so clever you can be a total dunce!"

"Well then, Cody, please enlighten me." Rebecca put her hands on her hips, daring him. "How is all of this nonsense inspiring, since I seem to be so clueless?"

Cody lifted up his arms and stretched them out from his sides, gesturing to all his surroundings. "You're in a dream!" he exclaimed. "Think, how much inspiration comes from dreams—from the subconscious? Anything can happen; you can go anywhere, be anything, see and do things beyond the boundaries of reality."

"Well, yeah, maybe. But how would that help my writing? Realistic stories have to have some layer of truth to them, which is rarely found in dreams."

"Oh, dreams have plenty of truth," Bailey insisted.

"And even if they didn't," Zack piped in, "who says your stories have to be realistic? Why can't you write an _un_realistic story—like a dream story?"

"_What_?" Rebecca looked at him dubiously.

"A dream story—you know, like a story where a character has a dream."

"That's not a bad idea," declared Cody.

"Whoa, someone pinch me!" Zack said.

"Why?" Rebecca asked.

"Because now I think _I_ might be dreaming. My brother actually _liked_ my idea."

Cody looked at him. "Don't act so surprised."

"Okay, so let's say I write a dream fic," Rebecca continued. "What then?"

"Why are you always so concerned with the _after_effect?" Cody asked. "Why not just focus on the writing itself? See where it takes you. You know, I think that might be why you have so much writer's block all the time; you simply concentrate on the finished product and not the details."

Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but didn't say anything because she knew that he had a valid point. One thing she lacked when it came to her own writing was patience. The desire to get something finished and posted tended to cloud the writing process, which—she knew full well—was the most important part of writing.

"You know," Bailey said as an idea sprung to her mind, "I wonder what would happen if several _Suite Life_ writers were to write dream fics."

"What do you mean?" inquired Zack.

"I mean, what if not only Rebecca wrote a dream fic, but other writers did too?"

"How would that happen?"

Bailey looked at Rebecca, the wheels in her head turning even faster.

Rebecca, being the dreamer, suddenly knew what she was thinking. And said it out loud: "A dream collection."

Bailey nodded, a smile expanding across the width of her face.

Rebecca smiled in return, loving the idea. "Bailey, you're a genius!" she exclaimed.

"You know, I could see this really going somewhere," interjected Cody. "Dreams are a fantastic phenomenon to ponder, and everyone has them so they're not novel. Plus, they offer the potential of originality—something many fanfictions lack. I, too, would like to see some writers on the _Suite Life _forum experiment with dream fics. Get them to walk out of realism for once and into the realm of subjectivity."

Bailey, Zack, and London all nodded in agreement.

"So it's settled," Rebecca said. "I'm going to conduct my very own collection."

"Only if you want to," Zack told her. "Remember, collections are a bit different from independent stories. They're not just about imagination and fun; they're about leadership and responsibility. And above all, collaboration."

"I understand," Rebecca assured him. Then smiled in delight. "Ooh, I haven't even started and I'm already excited. Just one question, though."

"What is it?" inquired Bailey.

"How do I wake up?"

Bailey smiled. "Easy. You _will_ yourself awake."

"How?"

"Um...try pinching yourself. Or slapping yourself. Do something that would jump-start your body."

"Or, here I've got an idea!" London intervened. "How about if I got you to wear my sparkly red slippers and you clicked your heels together? That should send you back."

"London, that's silly. This isn't _The Wizard of Oz_," Cody said. "It may be a nonsensical dream-world but that doesn't mean clicking her heels will transport her back to reality."

Rebecca held up her arm and pinched it. Nothing happened. She looked at Bailey, waiting for an explanation.

"Those red slippers ain't looking so silly now, are they?" London snarked.

Rebecca tried slapping herself. Nothing.

"Hey, why don't we hit her over the head with a blunt object?" suggested Zack. "That wakes people up in movies."

"Don't you dare!" Rebecca shot back.

Suddenly, Bailey disappeared and came back in a split second with a cup of water. Without a single word she splashed it in Rebecca's face. It didn't work—not completely—but Rebecca did feel the jarring sensation of reality tugging on her. Pulling her closer to wakefulness.

"Frankly, I don't know what to do," Bailey said, her hands going to her hips.

But Rebecca happened upon an idea, and before anyone could stop her or ask her if she was sure about doing something so drastic, she leapt off the stage and dashed over to the railing of the ship. Using her arms and legs as leverage, she hoisted herself up onto it and then—in one fell swoop—forced herself overboard. The second her body collided with the opaque water she awoke and shot up in bed, panting and adrenaline-pumped.

Glancing around, seeing that she was back in her untidy little bedroom in her (even more untidy) little house, she sighed in relief.

It was the middle of the night but she got up anyway, inspired and ready to get her new idea on a roll.


	2. woundedhearts

**Reaching**  
By woundedhearts

I walk along a path.

I feel the rays of the sun beating down on my face.

The warmth engulfs me in its radiant light.

You're standing near the end of the path, arms outstretched.

You love me, I see.

My steps become a little brisker, so soon I am sprinting toward you.

But something's happened…I should have reached you by now?

I stop, confused and out of breath. You seem farther away.

Fear engulfs me; a tear threatens to escape.

You're still standing there, waiting.

Again, I begin to walk toward you but still can't reach you.

You begin to look worried; sadness is in your eyes.

You begin to turn from me. "Wait" I cry out!

"Please don't go! Stay with me!"

You don't seem to hear me, even though I am shouting now.

"Please, please don't go, wait!" But soon I can't see you.

You've left me all alone.

A drop of rain descends on me, and the garden becomes a memory.

Left behind in its wake is nothing but a plain dirt road, dissolute and empty.

I am soaked, and my very bones seem to shake from the cold chill in the air.

I look around. There is nothing on either side of me.

Not a friendly face, not a caring voice, not your open arms that looked so warm.

It is just me; I begin to walk as the rain gets colder.

The sky is cruel and menacing, but no shelter I see.

Nowhere to sit out the storm until it passes and becomes a distant dream.

Deep grief and despair overshadow me, and I silently begin to cry.

"Where are you?" I wonder. "Where have you gone?"

Alone, in a world of my own creation, the screen fades to black and I awaken…and the tears come.

Waking up with a start, I look over. Lying beside me is the woman I adore.

I look toward the clock and wonder, how long do I have until she leaves me once more?

Clad in her uniform and ready for war.

My dream is now buried hidden within me.

Lost in the fear that is now my reality.

My wife, my love, my Bailey.

* * *

AN: This was actually an old Poem/Story I had in one of my journals. I simply changed it up a bit to fit TSL! :)

This was Cody's dream. I hope you like it. Please read and review! :)


	3. InsomniaticDreamer

**Premonition** by InsomniaticDreamer.

* * *

_A cold breeze brushed against my face, fanning my curls behind me. I opened my eyes, and saw that I was on a ship, leaning over the railing, looking out unto the vast ocean._

Maya woke up in a sweat. She was terrified. She had been getting these premonitions in her dreams since she was a little girl. They almost always foreshadowed tragedy. _A boat_, she thought. _I have to stay off of boats_.

She had received an application for a school semester at sea the day prior. She found the paper and ripped it into shreds, her heart pounding mercilessly. Seven Seas High had been her one chance at escape from her life now, from her step-dad and the memory of her dead sister.

She broke down and cried.

_The dream started off the same as before. Leaning over the railing, staring at the ocean. Only now, I could feel an arm wrapped around me, holding me close. The presence of the man next to me – for it was definitely a man – was comforting and brought happiness to my tormented heart._

When she woke up, she was confused. After foreshadowing her sister's death, her father's abandonment, and the coming of her horrid stepfather, she was jaded when it came to dreams. She assumed only bad could come of this. She broke down once more and cried. Was she really going to sacrifice her freedom and the love of her life because of fear?

_The arm was still wrapped around me lovingly when I returned to the dream the next night. I heard a voice – a voice that warmed my heart and caused my arms to erupt in goosebumps – whisper into my ear, "Close your eyes."_

_I didn't think, I just did. I closed my eyes and waited. I felt his presence lean over me, and felt his breath on my face. His lips met mine for a fraction of a second, just long enough for me to realize that I wasn't giving this up for anything._

_He pulled away slowly, and just as I was about to open my eyes to see him…_

She woke up with her heart pounding in her chest. Now she was faced with a decision. Should she leave the certainty – albeit unhappy certainty – of her home for an unknown place with just as many ups as downs? Or should she stay in this wretched home, never having the chance to explore a new territory? She was at a crossroads. She knew that whatever decision she made now would change her life forever.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Maya was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or, more accurately, a wall and her stepdad. She backed into the wall, cowering in fear.

"Jesus, girl! I was trying to sleep last night, but I couldn't, because you were crying way too loudly. Bitch, I need my sleep!" He slurred drunkenly, striking her face with the back of his hand. She cringed, squeezing her eyes shut. _It's not real, it's just a dream, it's just a dream. When I open my eyes, he'll be gone._

"Look me in the eyes, bitch!" he exclaimed, roughly shaking her shoulders. Her back pounded on the wall, and she winced in pain. She forced herself not to cry, though her heart was weeping in fear and agony.

Maya made her decision. She would go to Seven Seas High. She would leave her stepdad, and leave the comfort of home. She would be free.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next day, Maya had gone to her homeroom teacher, Ms. Fitzgerald and asked for a new application, which she gladly gave her.

"So you are going, then? To see the world, and feel freedom?"

"Yes," Maya had replied.

"Well, I'll miss you. And good luck."

As soon as she'd gotten home, she'd filled it out. She sent it in the mail without telling her mother or stepfather; making sure she got to mailbox before either of them, just in case. In a way, she was running away, but the rough streets wouldn't be her next home. Her next home would be a cruise ship, with the man of her dreams – literally – and new friends. Maya would get to see beautiful, worldly places, like Rome and Paris. She would live on the ocean, where the possibilities were as vast as the expanse of blue water she would travel on.

She stopped dreaming about the man on the ship. The fact that it would soon be a reality probably kept them from coming. One week later, her acceptance letter came in the mail.

She packed her bags, and grabbed all the money she had saved – 400 dollars, to be exact – and bought a bus ticket. The bus would bring cross-town to the port, where she would board the ship, never looking back.

On the bus ride there, the swaying of the boat and the calming, classical music lulled her to sleep.

_I opened my eyes, right after our kiss. A pair of blue eyes met my brown ones. He was tall (tallish) and slightly broad-shouldered, the complete opposite of my petite frame. His blond hair was thick and soft-looking. _

"_Zack," I heard myself giggle._

"_Maya," he retorted playfully._

_I smiled widely, and he grinned flirtatiously. I felt roll my eyes, leaning forward to press my lips against his once more._

"Miss! Is this your stop?" The voice of the bus driver woke her from her dream.

She looked out and saw it. The S.S. Tipton. Her freedom.

"Yes," she answered, thanking the bus driver as she left. She breathed in the salty air of the sea, and smiled to herself.

She was free, and soon, she would have Zack.

* * *

**So, what do you think? Since this is a collection, pm with reviews... Because I love them... Constructive Critisism = :) Flames = :(**


	4. owlhero

**Forgotten Souls**

By Owlhero

**Disclaimer: I do not own Suite Life Series. I like to thank Darkelements10 for betaing this for me.**

The gray stone was cold and unaffected by the human touch. It did not care why the humans were there. It was meant to do a job and would do so until the words written on its face eroded away.

The gray sky and the sun behind it did not care about the human presence below. They were merely covering the ground with rain and sun as they had done since the dawn of time. As far as they were concerned, the human existence was inconsequential for their jobs and ignored them.

The human beings in this case walked in the sea of stones toward two simple stones standing up out of the ground, the names etched on them still clear as the day they were pounded into them.

_Carey Marie Martin._

_1971-1998_

_When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music_

_Kurt Andrew Martin _

_1971-1998_

_Here lays a man rocking in the afterlife._

The leafless trees and the wet grass had seen these two humans before on multiple occasions. The first time occurred when two rectangular objects were lowered into the ground and covered with earth. They all wondered why they kept coming back, and the significance of the two bodies buried in front of the gray stones.

The two blond haired humans lost themselves in the shadows of the larger monuments and stared unbelievably at the two headstones in front of them, not believing it could happen to them. But it did.

Their heads were huddled in their black jackets and the ties were tightened around their little necks. The wind beckoned them to leave this horrid place full of painful memories.

_I wonder what it means to die._

_Are Mom and Dad happy, sad, scared or angry at us? Is this punishment for what we did? Do they remember us? Do they still love us?_

The multitude of questions spiraled around Zack's terrified mind as he wondered and stared at the heartless letters in the tombstone for an unconceivable amount of time. He remembered his father's guitar strumming and his strong but gentle arms and his mother's musical harmonies as she tried but failed to make a meal and sing them to sleep at night. The memories dissipated like dust in the wind, ash coating his mouth as he remembered them.

It seemed too unreal for Zack to realize how they could be smiling and surrounded by love one second and be empty and sad the next. He wondered where they were at now.

_Are Mommy and Daddy gone or are they at someplace better than this? _

The thought made him want to cry but he had to stay strong for Cody, realizing they were all each other had now.

_How could any place be better than with us_? A surge of anger, grief and confusion arose out of his mind ready to strike but… another thought fought it off instead.

_Cody needs me. He does not deserve to be hurt by me. He is hurting worse than I am. I must be strong for him._

He looked at his twin from the corner of his eye and saw a shell of what he was. He knew Cody needed him and would be there for him through anything.

_Why did they have to die? Why did it have to be them? Why couldn't it have been someone else?_

Cody felt a heaviness enter his heart as the last thought melted from his brain. There was a word for this feeling.

Shame.

He felt miserable for wishing this on anyone, but no else had just lost both their parents within the last month. Two deaths left two boys with nothing but darkened skies, destitute hopes and sapped spirits to draw from. Rain started to fall to emphasize the depressing state the world was drawing from them.

The cold water ran down Cody's small face but the sensation did reach past the empty mask he put up after the tragedy crashed upon him. He remembered the funeral service where people told the audience their memories of his parents. He doubted anyone knew their parents really well because they had just moved there six months before. They knew them as co-workers. Not as a loving mother or father and the cornerstones of two young lives.

The memories of his parents poisoned his veins as they surged through them. He remembered being read stories before bed, the happy memories of opening presents on Christmas surrounded by wrapping paper and new toys. The rain masked the few tears as they rolled down his freezing cheeks.

He looked over at Zack.

_My older brother. He's acts so strong but I know he's hurting inside. He needs me._

Cody grabbed his twin's hand and clutched it. Zack's eyes turned and connected with Cody's. Anguish radiated out of both of them, but their connection kept them sane for the time. The two lost souls glided their way out of the cemetery while the trees waved goodbye to the little humans with wretched spirits and endless questions while pouring rain battered their organic carcasses.

The twins lay in bed, curled up next to each other, their minds reflecting on old wounds. Each other's warmth barely reaching the consciousness of the other, but knowing it was there, gave them some comfort. Cody slept with Zack's arms around his stomach and his twin's head next to his on the pillow as they knew they would be suffering through another disturbed night of sleep.

This night would be the same except for a minor but not so trivial detail.

The first thing Cody realized was that he was not in his pajamas. No, he was wearing normal clothes.

"But that's not right. I was wearing pajamas to bed." His voice was creaky from lack of use.

"Hey Cody?" Zack's voice reached out to his heart and he turned around to see Zack in matching jeans, shirt and sneakers.

"You too?" Cody said to him and Zack nodded.

"Do you know what's going? I thought we were asleep in bed?" Zack's voice was unsure, curious and a little nervous, but he was trying to hide it. Unfortunately Cody saw right through it.

Cody shrugged his shoulders and a voice called out to him. A voice he thought he would hear only in his dreams again.

"Hello sweetie."

Both twisted to see their mother in her favorite long sleeve shirt and pants. Standing next to her was their father in his trademark black leather jacket, shirt and jeans.

The twins stood frozen for a second, stunned to see their late parents in front of them standing by the favorite park near their old house. Bright lights shined down on the park making appear like it was midday but it was almost eight o'clock at night.

"Mom! Dad!" The twins ran as fast as their little legs could carry them and ran into the loving comforting arms of the parents, crying all the way there.

"You are alive. I can't believe it" Zack cried through sobs as he was held by Kurt.

Kurt looked at Carey with a sad smile and look at his slightly older son.

"No, Zack. We are not alive. We are dead. This is just a dream you are having."

Cody cries out in shock "How? Mom, you are wearing your favorite shirt and Dad's wearing his jacket."

He followed his mother and father as the group walked into the park past their favorite swings. Memories of asking to be pushed, laughing while swinging and air rushing through their hair emerged from the minds. The group sat down at one of the three picnic table in the small park.

Carey looked at her son with loving sorrowful eyes. "Cody, your father's right. We are dead. We appeared in this form to make you feel as comfortable as possible. We figured wearing wings and all that stuff would scare and confuse you." Carey's voice ended with a gentle tone.

Cody nodded, demoralized at the realization that his parents were truly gone and never coming back, and started bawling his eyes out.

Carey held Cody as he cried and tried to soothe him, even though there was no good way to do it now that she was gone from his physical world.

"Why can't you come back? We need you. We can't go on without you." Zack's voice shaking as the words came out.

"Things don't work that way. If we were allowed to come back, we would without hesitation. But once you die, you die. Even so, we still love you both without limits." Kurt's voice reached Zack through his sorrow and the boy nodded.

"Is this our fault?" Zack asked his parents nervously, and the two realized where this was going instantly.

"It was never your fault. There are things, events that happen when we are alive that we do not understand the reasons behind it," Kurt said. "Death is one of them. Our deaths are not the result anything you did. Sometimes things happen because they just do. They are nobody's fault."

Cody thought for a second then remembered the question running through his head earlier about death.

"What is it like to die?"

His parents smiled as they looked at him and recognized the thirst for knowledge he processed and tried to get him to understand.

"You remember the story Peter Pan. Do you remember what he said about death?" Carey asked Cody, who nodded.

"Death is just the next big adventure; something no one alive has faced yet," Cody responded, his confidence overriding his emotions at the situation.

Carey smiled proudly at her son. "That's right. It is simply the end of life as we were and what you are now. It is something not to be afraid of. We are not in any pain at all. We miss you terribly but we will always love you no matter where you are. Wherever you are, a part of us will be inside your hearts to guide you in the toughest of times if you willing to listen to it."

Kurt added to both of his sons, "I understand why you are upset and maybe a little angry at us for leaving you in such a situation. We had no intention of leaving in such a position but it was not up to us. You have every right to be upset with us for a time but eventually you need to move on."

"How can we move on without you?" Both twins spat quickly with 5 year old gusto.

Carey and Kurt looked at each other and nodded.

"We realize it won't be easy; however, you must realize that if you stay sad forever about our deaths, you will be missing out on living," Kurt stated.

"I can tell you one thing. I will be disappointed in you if you are sad your whole lives over us," Carey said with a gentle but firm motherly tone. Both responded with a quiet okay.

Both adults looked at each other and realized time was short.

"Boys, we don't have much time. We have to leave shortly. Just remember we will never forget you no matter what."

Both boys sobbed and grabbed onto the parents with death grips as they tried to remember their mom's perfume or the smell of their dad's leather jacket. Too soon both felt being pulled away from them and struggled to stay, but it was useless. The warmth and love of their parents faded as they were yanked from the dream state they were in.

Zack and Cody woke, still close together. They both looked at each other and tears were still falling down their cheeks.

"Do you remember the dream we just had?" Zack asked his twin.

"Yeah, it had Mom and Dad in it, in their favorite clothes," Cody answered with certainty.

"Do you think what they said was true?" Zack posed to his brother.

"I'm not sure but I hope so," Cody answered.

As if on cue, the sunrise broke through the clouds and bathed the twin's room with warm sunlight. Their hearts and the faces felt warmth not from the sun but from something else entirely. They looked at each other and realized that life was not over. Even though it would not be easy and the pain would still be with them throughout their lives, they knew they would not be forgotten and they could get through it together. The boys wiped their tears from their faces and tackled life with a renewed sense of optimism.

**Not exactly my best work, but please read and review. Any comments, positive or negative, are welcome.**

**I don't mean to shove religion down people's throats but this is the idea that came to me. As for the abstractness and the collection, I took it as a writing challenge for myself to do something different.**


	5. tiger002

**A/N: **This story is part of the rewrite to my story "Separated, but not Apart," and takes place slight before the original one began. I actually didn't plan on this being part of the dream collection, but thought a dream would work perfectly here. Enjoy.

* * *

**Alone **by tiger002

'_As I walk through the Valley of the shadow of death__  
__I wear my crown of thorns and pull the knife out my chest__  
__I keep searching for something that I never seem to find__  
__But maybe I won't because I left it all behind…'_

"Think this kid has anything, Giles?" a loud gruff man asked, causing Cody to break out of his light slumber. He froze in place, and made sure to keep his breaths even. He knew that acting weak and innocent was the best way to avoid trouble.

"Doubt it. Looks like he ain't eaten for days. Can't have any money on him."

By this point, Cody was fully awake, ready to fight these two should they try anything and then disappear again. He kept his eyes closed though, knowing it was best to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He could take these two if they tried anything funny, but he knew he had nothing to gain by fighting when he didn't have to.

He heard their footsteps as they walked away and pried his right eye open just enough to see what was going on. He breathed a gentle sigh of relief when they rounded a corner.

He saw it was still dark, and his body craved sleep, so he allowed himself to relax just enough to doze off, while still keeping an ear out for anyone else.

…

"Cody," he heard a voice call out, jolting him upward.

So, they had found him again.

He looked up from his bed of concrete in one of the many alleys in this vast city and saw their signature black suits, black pants, black shoes, and black sunglasses.

"You again," he said, getting to his feet. He couldn't believe he had fallen asleep so deeply that he didn't notice them coming. He was actually sleeping somewhat well and these guys just had to ruin it. Though, he was thankful their orders were to keep him alive; otherwise letting his guard down could have been fatal.

"You are coming with us," their leader said, grabbing onto his shoulder, thinking that his superior size would mean the teen couldn't get away.

Cody almost smirked at the fool's arrogance. He knew their orders: capture him alive and bring him back to John. Little did they know how hard that would be.

In a motion quicker than any human could follow, Cody freed his shoulder, punched the guy in the face with his other arm, and kicked the guy into the wall before sprinting down the alleyway. He heard the other two draw guns, something he just knew was an empty threat. They couldn't shoot him, or they'd risk killing John's prized possession.

Cody ran through the streets of the crowded city, his eyes still getting used to the sunlight. He kept glancing over his shoulder for their signature black car, dreading trying to get away from that again. He knew he could evade them easily enough if they were on foot since he was so much faster than them.

However, in his worry about what was behind him, he didn't notice the throngs of people blocking his way. He crashed into a rich looking business person, knocking them both to the ground. After mumbling a quick apology, he got up and took off as fast as ever. He hated traveling through big cities during rush hour because of how hard it was to make any progress, but this time he was somewhat thankful because he could blend in easier and would be able to get away. At least, he hoped so.

He risked crashing into someone else by taking a quick glance behind him.

Good, no black car.

That didn't mean he'd lost them though.

No, not by a long shot. But that meant he had some room to breathe. Now all he had to do was get out of the street, into a building or something, where he'd be safe. For now.

He glanced across the towering skyscrapers, analyzing which one would be best. He needed some place where he wouldn't arouse suspicion and could hide for a while. He saw several banks, but they would quickly notice that a fifteen-year-old in a torn t-shirt and black gym shorts didn't belong there. He also saw several restaurants, but they would become suspicious if he didn't order anything for a while. His stomach growled at the thought of eating, but food cost money, which was something he didn't have. He then saw a parking garage. Perfect.

After looking for that black car one more time, he slipped under the gate, earning him a few glances from the nearby drivers, but Cody knew they were too busy with their jobs to care for long. If anyone asked he'd just say he was getting something out of his mom's car or something. Not the most convincing lie, but he knew that no one had enough time to press the issue.

He ran up the ramps until he was on at least the third floor, keeping him out of sight from anyone who found him and decided to chase him. He learned long ago that he wasn't safe just because he thought he lost them. He always made several extra twists and turns no matter what to make sure he was safe before he'd even consider letting his guard down.

Now that he had climbed several ramps and saw the columns with a large 4 on them, he decided that was enough running for now. Despite this not being the safest place he could think of, he decided it would be good enough. He was too tired to keep going.

He surveyed the floor and found it nearly vacant of people, but he did catch several security cameras. He doubted they would notice him, but knew anything he did would be on record. He'd just have to keep a low profile as long as possible, something he had acquired a skill for.

His eyes locked upon a red van and he decided that would make do for a temporary rest. He walked up to it and tried to open one of its doors, but found it to be locked—something that didn't surprise him in a big city like Dayton, Ohio. Taking a few more quick glances around him to ensure no one would see, he positioned his body so it would block his hands from view of the camera. He then found the locks of the car, slid his hand through the solid, and unlocked the door. After pulling his hand back out, he climbed into the car, the soft seats an oasis compared to the hard ground of the city and his pillow of concrete.

If he had to guess, he'd say it was about 9AM, which, assuming the owner of the car worked an average job, would give him plenty of time to sleep undisturbed. He crawled into the backseat, seeing that he could easily lay across there, making it more comfortable than a chair, but on his way back, he noticed a small bag of Doritos which instantly caused his stomach to growl. He picked it up and noticed it was still half-full so he quickly gobbled down all that was left, his tongue relishing the taste and his stomach grateful for the nutrition.

He took another glance around, looking if anyone had spotted him and let loose a sigh of relief, seeing that he was alone. With that, he closed his eyes and let his body melt into the soft cushions, falling into the rest he so deeply longed for.

…

Lost in the realm of sleep, his mind drifted, memories of the past few years racing through his head. He tried focusing on the good—the memories that gave him hope, the ones that brought a smile to his face, the ones that made him laugh; but buried not so far beneath were the bad. The ones of their deaths, of the separation, of his new home (if he could call it that), of the pain of someone he thought he could trust nearly killing him. At one time, all he worried about was the test at the end of the week, or trying to fit in with the cool kids.

How he longed for such simplicity.

His dreams flashed to his old school, the start of middle school, of the whole new world of possibilities and fears.

"What do you think, Zack? This is going to be so cool," he said to his twin as they walked through the doors that first day.

Zack brushed off the comment, uninterested in learning, and walked into the shadows of the past once again.

Cody ran after him, afraid to be alone in the strange new world.

Though as he entered the shadows, the familiar school faded, and instead he saw himself in a church, his brother beside him once more. Dressed in suits and bottling up tears, they gazed upon the coffins. The coffins were but a formality since the bodies had been mangled beyond recognition in the accident. He heard the whispers of his parents echo through the air, a sliver of hope that things could go back to the way they were. He eagerly asked if Zack heard it, but before he could get an answer, a dark hand rested upon his shoulder and everything of his old life vanished.

Fear paralyzed him as everything began fading. He looked up at the man whose face was but a shadow and he began shaking. Pain erupted along his body and he tried to run, but the man's grasp just grew tighter and Cody was thrown to the ground, another bone broken.

He screamed, begging for mercy, but it didn't come. Instead, the pain grew more intense as the man's eyes grew red behind the shadow.

Cody screamed, breaking himself from the dream. He looked around as his heart pounded against his ribcage. He placed his hand on his chest, trying to calm his breaths, and noticed the sweat dripping down his body. It then occurred to him that his scream could have attracted attention, so he nervously peered out through the windows, thankful to see no one.

He held his head in his hand, trying to banish those memories from his mind. He almost allowed himself to cry, before remembering that he'd never give that sick monster the pleasure of making him waste a tear like that.

He looked to the horizon, knowing how much farther his journey would take him. He didn't even know his exact destination, but somehow, just felt called to journey to the east, back to his old home in Boston. He wasn't sure why, but it gave him hope, a purpose to keep going, to keep breathing. Maybe it was foolish, but it was all he had. And so, knowing he couldn't get any more sleep after another nightmare, he grabbed a water bottle out of the car and continued on his journey once more.

'_So scared to dream in a world with no sunlight__  
__When you wake up you know it's darker than last night__  
__Quickly we forget, sacrifice gone by__  
__Born to walk away, been walking my whole life'_

_Hear Me Now, Hollywood Undead_


	6. Chicas

**A Dream Come True **by Chicas

* * *

It was just another ordinary afternoon. School had ended and I was making my way home with my twin brother beside me. Well, I was heading home until what appeared to be a gigantic pool of darkness had cast its shadow around me. I looked up to discover that this widespread darkness was cast from Drew Harrier, some jerk in school who liked picking on the new kids in town…which just so happened to be me and my brother.

"Well, well, well. Would you look at this? Two brothers walking together. How cute." Drew stepped in front of the two of us, looking down at us as if we were lesser beings than him.

The look on his face just made me sick. "Look Drew, my brother and I really don't like how you've been treating us lately. Why can't you just be nice for a change?" My twin, Cody, tried to reason with the bully.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please Cody, you can't play nice with a bully. He just needs a nice ass whooping. Then he'll leave us alone." I began to crack my knuckles.

"Ha! You? Kick MY ass? Please!" Drew grunted as threw his backpack on the floor.

He immediately darted toward us. I took a fight stance, but he decided to play dirty and go for my brother instead. He pushed Cody to the cold, hard, concrete floor. I watched the blood rush down my brother's knees as tears of frustration began to form in my eyes. Drew, however, just pointed at the wound he'd inflicted and began to laugh. With each chuckle from his mouth, my eyebrows gradually began to concave downward in an angry fashion. Then it happened. I don't know why I did it, or even how it happened. But I guess I just snapped.

"You… You BASTARD!" I cried out as I threw my fist right into his gut. His laughter suddenly came to an end as he collapsed to the ground before me.

As I saw him cringing in pain, I began to feel stronger than I ever had before. I, Zack Martin, had just defeated Drew Harrier with one blow to the stomach.

"Haha, Cody. Did you see that?" I turned toward Cody with a prideful smirk across my face. My expression transformed, however, when I saw Cody crying hysterically. "Are you okay, Cody?"

"It hurts!" Cody yelped as he held onto his knee. The poor guy… I just couldn't prevent that from happening. I failed as a brother.

Within the next few seconds, I felt a blow to the back of my head. Drew had apparently reawakened, and I failed to anticipate that. My knees suddenly gave in and I fell to the ground. In a matter of seconds I felt like nothing more than a flower that was withering away. The world around me began to go black and then… well, I don't know what happened then.

* * *

"Zack, wake up!" yelled my mom. It took me a couple of seconds to comprehend what she had asked of me. At this point I had realized that everything I thought I had accomplished was nothing but a mere dream. Everything from knocking Drew out to watching my brother cry in pain was all just a psychological nightmare. I got up to examine myself in the mirror and came to the conclusion that, in reality, I don't have the guts to ever take out Drew. I guess that is the best part about dreams. You do things in them that you really would like to do in reality but, when it comes down to it, you know you just can't.

After I got all of that thinking out of the way, I quickly threw myself together and went on my way to school with my brother beside me. I tried real hard not to think about my dream, but it just wouldn't leave my thoughts. I wish I knew the reason behind it. Questions were running through my mind over and over again until, instantaneously, they just all flushed out. Suddenly I began to not care about the reason behind me having the dream, but rather the issue at hand. Standing right before me was Drew himself!

"Well, well, well. Would you look at this? Two brothers walking together. How cute." Drew stood in front of us to block our path.

"Look Drew, my brother and I really don't like how you've been treating us lately. Why can't you just be nice for a change?" Cody tried to reason with the bully.

Wait a minute… I'd heard this exact conversation before. If I hadn't been mistaken, both Cody and Drew said those same exact words in my dream. Could it be that my dream was telling the future? No way… that would've been just too farfetched.

"Cody, you can't reason with bullies. You have to take them head on." I tried to play along with my dream by attempting to quote what I said in it. I even proceeded to crack my knuckles.

"Ha! You? Kick MY ass? Please!" Drew threw his bag to the floor and bolted toward us.

I close my eyes and try to recall what happened in my dream next. Finally, I remember that Drew is about to throw Cody to the ground. I quickly take off my backpack and fling it right in front of Cody. As expected, Drew trips over it and tumbles to the ground. "Score!" I cry out as I jump into the air. However, I am well aware that this fight is far from over.

Next in my dream, I was supposed to run up to Cody and try to comfort him, only to have Drew knock me out with a punch to the back of my head. Although Cody wasn't actually injured, if I tried to stray away from my dream's sequence of events, I wouldn't be able to foretell what would happen. So, I ran up to Cody anyway.

"You okay, bro?" I asked, purposefully keeping my back to Drew.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How did you know he was coming for me?" Cody questioned.

"Hold up a second. I'll get back to you after I dodge Drew's attempt to punch me in the back of the headm," I said as I saw his shadow approaching in the corner of my eyes. I swiftly turned around and caught Drew's fist. I then threw my right foot into his gut and he flew a few feet backwards before landing on the ground. "And that should do it." I brushed off my shoulders. "Now, as you were saying…"

Cody stared at Drew, absolutely dumbfounded. "How did you… what did you…" he stuttered in shock.

"Haha, don't worry about it, bro. We'd better get to school. Don't want to be late." I marched along proudly. That day was one where could proudly say my life was a dream come true!


	7. InsomniaticDreamer II

**Tangibility** by _InsomniaticDreamer_

(I always forget this -) **disclaimer: I do not own Suite Life **

**Warning: **This story includes self-harm...

* * *

She's running and running

and she doesn't know why.

_(And it's strange because she's London Tipton, and she does _not_ run.)_

But she keeps on running,

even though

she doesn't know where she's running

or what she's running from.

_(She wakes up and there are tears in her eyes and she doesn't know why)_

She can only keep running

blindly, hoping she's going

in the right direction.

_(Even though she doesn't know what the right direction is.)_

She can feel his presence at the

end of her subconscious and she

cries out to him but he

never hears her.

_(She didn't expect him to, anyway.)_

But now

she's crying.

_(though by now she's used to this kind of pain)_

Why won't he listen?

Why can't he see her tears,

feel her pain? Why is he

so distant?

_(And she knows the answer though she's sick of hearing it.)_

He's too busy. Too

busy for her? His

daughter? His own flesh and

blood?

_(Blood runs thicker than water.)_

And oh, how it flows when she presses

the blade into her arm, savoring

it's blissful agony, the edge

glistening and sparkling.

_(And we know how much she loves sparkles)_

The light bouncing off the blade

is hypnotic and the

blood trickles satisfactorily.

And she loves this pain

because it, at least, is

real,

palpable,

tangible.

_(Unlike her father)_

Because she's running and

running with no direction.

She doesn't know where she's going

or where she's coming from.

But that's all right.

_(Because even her dreams are more tangible than her father)_


	8. cornwallace

_  
Without

by

cornwallace

* * *

Gun on the table, sitting idly by an unopened box of bullets.

Thesis statement.

You ready for it?

Why settle for worthlessness when you can become legendary?

Nobody saw this coming. Not even me.

I can't help what I am.  
What I've become. There was a time, long before this, when I had my shit together.

I was a smart kid. No shame in admitting to it. An all-A student.

Times like these, I think of Zack.  
I can only hope he's doing okay.

We don't speak anymore. You could say that this is my fault, and I would have to tell you that you were right. However, what's done is done, and the past cannot be altered, no matter how much you might want it to.

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Say that to someone who's been paralyzed from the waist down, and they would get up and kick your ass if they could. Someone like me.

That's the irony of said philosophy. I'm living proof that it's bullshit.

* * *

"How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I'm just dandy, Zack. Just fucking _dandy_."

He goes silent again. Looking at his shoes. Twiddling his thumbs very slowly. His leg bouncing up and down, toes planted firmly, heel tapping against the rug that blankets the wooden floor. A nervous tic that's always gotten on my nerves.

"You know," he starts, not bothering to look up. "The situation sucks. I know that. You really don't have to take it out on me.."

...  
Sigh.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, man. I understand. I'm fucked up about it, too."

I don't know how to respond, so I don't.  
He buries his face in his hands.

"What are we gonna do, Cody?"

"I don't know."

"Funerals aren't cheap. Not to mention her debt. We don't have this kind of money."

"I know."

"How are we going to pay for all of this?"

...  
"I'll think of something."

* * *

Face beaten and swollen. Bruised. Missing teeth. They found four in her stomach. Two on the floor. Finished her off with a kitchen knife to the jugular. The cops had to pry it out with bloody gloved hands and confiscate it as evidence.

They didn't find anything.

They suspect that it was a burglary gone wrong. She gets up to get a glass of water at just the wrong time. The robber panics and takes her out, hurriedly gathering what he can before disappearing into the night.

No finger prints. No witnesses. Not a trace of usable evidence.

Mom.

Some people are lucky. Some people just aren't.  
Poor mom..

* * *

"What the fuck do you mean? ... Can't you check again? ... The fuck do you mean, a fine-toothed comb? There must be something there. ... No, you're just not doing your fucking job. Is this why I pay taxes? So you can let murderers wander the streets? ... No, I'm not being unreasonable. You're just a bunch of goddamn amateurs. ... I don't fucking care what it takes. Find him."

The phone slams down on the cradle. I can hear everything through these paper thin walls.

Zack emerges from his bedroom, feet coming down hard enough on the floor to echo slightly off the walls of the hallway.

Sitting at the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Bottle of jack sitting next to a tumbler with three melting cubes.

"He's still fucking out there," he says.

"I know," I tell him. "I heard."

"We have to do something," he says, pacing back and forth on the other side of the bar.

"There's nothing we can do, Zack."

"We can't just let that piece of shit walk, Cody!"

"You think I want him out there? Do you really think that I'm okay with any of this?"

He stops pacing and crosses his arms, leaning against the refrigerator. Tapping his foot.

"Alright, Zack. Alright. Round up the posse, and grab us some shotguns," I say, imitating the cocking and shooting hand motions and sound effects. "Let's go on a manhunt."

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated."

"What do you want me to do?"

"You're smart, Cody. Think of something."

Sigh.  
Unscrew the bottle and fill the glass halfway.  
Set the bottle down. Pick the glass up and glance at the scowling expression on Zack's face before averting my eyes back to the glass. Swirl it around. What's left of the three cubes, clinking against one another.

"Yeah, Zack," I say, taking a sip from the tumbler and setting it on the counter, next to the bottle. "I'm smart. Smart enough to know there's nothing we can do about any of this.

* * *

They put her in the ground on a Tuesday.  
It was a closed casket funeral.  
The distant family members and friends of hers vainly trying to console us for our loss. Cheap offerings of insincerity. Telling us that if there's anything they can do for us, don't hesitate to ask.

I can think of a few things. Why bother, though?  
It's not like they mean it.

These people are more worried about being reminded of their own mortality than they are about what we might be going through.

They're not sorry she died. They're sorry they're going to.

A sunny day.  
Mom always loved warm weather.

After she was in the ground, everybody slowly left, one by one.  
Everybody, save for Zack and I.

As they were shoveling dirt onto her casket, that's when it hit me.  
It hadn't seemed real, at first. I just went kind of numb.  
Sitting there in silence, next to my brother, I suddenly feel as if I've been kicked in the chest by a horse.  
That's when I started to cry.  
Zack silently hugged me and I followed suit. His tears soaking through the fabric on my shirt.

Suddenly, it started to rain.  
Sun still shining brightly down on us.

I guess the devil was beating his wife.

It rained until the following Tuesday.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing really. Just got off work."

"How's the new job?"

It takes everything in me not to literally groan.

"I don't really want to talk about it. How's school?"

"It's killing me. Finals week. I have like, six tests here in the next three days. I think I'm gonna die, baby."

"You're not gonna die," I say, chuckling. "I hope you do well on them."

"Thanks. I've been studying my butt off. I'm gonna have to pull another all-nighter tonight."

"I'm sorry, baby."

...  
"Cody?"

"Yes?"

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I... I don't know."

"I'm so sorry, baby."

"I wish you could have been here, Bailey."

"Me, too, Cody. But you know I couldn't leave school. Not now."

"Didn't stop me."

"Yeah, and you lost your scholarship."

"Whatever."

"Cody?"

"What?"

"How much have you had to drink today?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm really worried about you."

"Well, don't bother. It's not like you care enough to do anything to help out in this situation."

She doesn't say anything, and I feel like shit.

"I'm sorry, Bailey."

"I have to go. I've gotta study."

"Please, Bailey, don't do this. I-"

"I have to study, Cody. Goodbye."

"Are you still coming down when you go on break?"

Silence.

"Bailey?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

"Okay. I love you."

"Bye."

Click.

* * *

Bailey didn't arrive when her break started.

I called her three times on the day she was supposed to arrive. It was a Tuesday.  
She never picked up, so I left a message.  
The next day, I tried calling again. No answer.

The following Tuesday, a package showed up at the front desk of Zack's apartment complex.

In the package were all the the things I had left at her place, along with a three page note about how much of a failure as a boyfriend I am. How she doesn't love me anymore. How she doesn't want to watch me destroy myself. How I'm not going anywhere, while she's on the fast track to success. Signed with a lipstick kiss.

* * *

"You going to work today, Cody?"

"I had to quit yesterday."

"Had to quit? What the hell do you mean, had to quit?"

"I was doing all the managerial work up there for minimum wage. I'm not going to do more work than everyone else for less pay. That makes no sense."

"Jesus Christ, Cody. We have bills to pay."

"I'll think of something."

"How much money do you have?"

"Thirty."

"Thirty dollars? Thirty fucking dollars? Are you serious?"

"You wanna check my wallet?"

"How much did you drink and literally piss away in the past six days?"

"It took somewhere around three hundred and seventy dollars to get us both drunk and keep us alive for another three weeks. Also got a speeding ticket."

"Driving drunk, no doubt."

"Don't you think I'd be in jail if that were the case?"

"Jesus, Cody. Fuck you. You're fucking pathetic."

"I'm pathetic? Sorry if I'm spending all my money on food and drinks for us, instead of spending it on expensive bullshit for random floozies to get my dick wet once and never call them back ever again. Sorry if I have integrity, and have finally had enough of being a pizza parlor's slave for the lowest possible pay."

"No, you just don't go out and meet people. You just sit around the house, floating your goddamn liver and crying about how much your life sucks when you don't even have one. Excuse me for having a life, Cody. Excuse me for not being a pathetic excuse for a miserable human being, just like yourself."

I don't know how to respond to this.  
So, I don't say anything.

I just get up and put my shoes on. Grabbing the half empty bottle on the counter, I head for the door.

"And just where the fuck do you think you're going?"

The door slams shut behind me, and I walk down the steps to my car.

Open the driver's side and toss the bottle into the passenger seat. Get in and slam it so hard that the window shakes in its frame.

Goodbye, Zack.

* * *

If it is black, it is not white.  
This statement works both ways.  
If it is white, it is not black.

In this life, the only way some people get what they want is through fiction.

You can write your own happy endings on the page, but that doesn't make them any less fictional.

Dreams. Dreams are more trouble then they're worth.  
Some people figure out ways to test themselves, to see if they're dreaming. After finding out they're asleep, they become a god of their temporary universe.

I mostly just dream about the ones I lost.  
Mother.  
Father.  
Bailey.  
Zack.  
You're all there, but so is the distance.

If I could control my dreams, I would catch up to you, and for awhile, everything would be okay.

But I can't.

You always elude me.

If it is alive, it is not dead.  
This statement also works both ways.  
If it is dead, it is not alive.

* * *

Raining.  
Countryside.  
Night.

Can't see anything beyond the glow of my headlights. The road stretching out into the darkness past vision's reach.

Lightning strikes in the distance, temporarily revealing the trees around me with a quick flash of light.

Bottle resting in between my legs. Cap already off, and discarded somewhere in the floorboard.

Ready, able.

Take another hit from the bottle.

I don't know where I'm going. Not sure I will, even when I get there.

Following this long and windy road down its twists and turns only to end up nowhere.

This is the path we all ultimately venture down. I'm just getting a head start.

Take a deep breath and hold it, pushing the oxygen in my lungs as far down as possible. Starting to get light-headed.

Hand fumbles for the lever next to the wheel. Fingers locate the dial at the end. Turn it back towards me, and the lights cut off.

I wonder just how far this straight-away goes, but I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

Lightning flashes in the sky as I begin to fade away.

* * *

"I had this dream last night."

Bailey's eyes locked onto mine.  
That beautiful smile of hers flashing at the bottom of my line of vision.

"Oh? Do tell."

Those beautiful green eyes.

"I had lost everything. I had lost you, my scholarship, my mother, my job, even my own brother."

Her smile fades as she slowly closes in and cradles my face in her right hand. She plants a kiss on my cheek and whispers softly in my ear. Her breath sending chills down my spine.

"You know I would never leave you, sweetie."

"I know..."

She pulls back. Her dark blue eyes, like blueberries.  
Smiling again.

"What did you do then?"

"I left what little life of mine was left, and I drove into the void."

She blinks and her eyes are a gorgeous hazel.

"Bailey...?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What color are your eyes?"

She acts as if she didn't hear me. She just stares at me as if she understands.

"You aren't real... are you?"

Her tight-lipped smile fades and she blinks once again.  
Her eyes, solid black, like giant pupils.

I would tell her that I love her, but I'd only be talking to myself. And if I say it to me, I won't mean it.  
Leaves falling around us in the park on this autumn day.

I always loved the fall.

The ground begins to shake violently beneath our feet as the universe around us begins cracking at the seams.

I can't help but stare at you as this world collapses, because I know deep down in my heart that if I avert my eyes for even an instant, you won't be there anymore.

My Bailey...  
At least here, I can almost pretend.

* * *

Flash.

* * *

"Wake up, Cody."

* * *

Flash.

* * *

"Please, Cody. Wake up."

* * *

Flash.

* * *

"Please, Cody. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean all that shit I said."

* * *

Flash.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin. You'll have to come back some other time."

* * *

Flash.

* * *

"Please hang in there, Cody. If not for me, than for yourself."

* * *

Darkness.

* * *

Light.  
Too bright. Eyes force themselves closed before I can even focus.

Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep.

Where am I...?  
What is this?

"Mister Martin?"

"Nnnh..."

"That's it, Cody. Open your eyes."

"Who...?"

Eyes try to open, but can only handle a second or two at a time. Vision unable to adjust.

"Too bright," I say.

"Give it a minute."

"Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, Cody. You've survived a very terrible accident. You're very lucky to be alive at all."

Bright blurs come into focus. The doctor is standing at the end of my bed, scribbling something down on a notepad.

"Where's Zack?"

He stops writing and looks at me.

"Excuse me?"

"Did I.. have any visitors?"

He stares at me blankly.

"Visitors?"

"Oh.."

* * *

Spinal injury.  
The doctors tell me that I'll never be able to walk again.  
Just like that. Stating facts. No attachment to them whatsoever.

They just sit me down in a wheelchair and show me the door. They told me they'd send me a bill.  
Once outside, I just sit there a moment and watch the cars drive by from the sidewalk.

Wondering what I'm gonna do. Where I'm gonna go.

This is worse than dying.

* * *

"Mr. Moseby?" she calls out, knocking on the door. "You have a visitor."

Shady Oaks rest home. The man who once managed both a hotel and a cruise ship, reduced to this.

A place for people at the end of their rope to go and dangle awhile before losing their grip entirely.

This place smells like death.  
The dead and the dying.

Hopelessness

I feel as though I fit right in.

The door opens to reveal a man that vaguely resembles what he used to be.

Grey beard, hunched over a cane. He adjusts his thick glasses and stares at me. A smile stretching across his face.

"Thank you," he says to the nurse. "I'll take it from here."

She turns and walks away without saying a word.

"Do these tired old eyes deceive me?"

"Depends on what you see."

"Cody Martin. Come on in, boy. How the hell are you?"

Wheel past him and turn around to face him.

"I'm alive. That's the best answer I can give, I guess."

"Alive's not too bad," he says, slowly walking past me and sitting down. "I'd offer you a seat, but it looks like you've got that covered. Zack's laziness rubbing off on ya?"

"Ha. No. Car accident last year left me paralyzed."

"Aw. Don't take offense, kid. You gotta learn to laugh at the hand you're dealt. That way you can smile your way to victory."

"I guess so."

"Gravity takes its toll on everything, on this here planet."

"No kidding. Drink?"

"What you got there, Cody?"

"Whiskey," I say, removing the personal sized bottle from my jacket pocket.

"Sure," he says, reaching for it.

The skin on his hands like worn paper. I hand him the bottle and he takes a swig.

"What brings you out here, Cody?"

"I live nearby. Heard you were staying out here, thought I'd come see how you were doing."

"That's awful kind of you, Cody. I'm doin' alright," he says, taking another drink and handing the bottle back over to me. "Just livin' my life, one day at a time. What are you up to these days?"

Grab the bottle and nod before taking another hit.

"You're looking at it," I say.

"Happens to the best of us," he replies. "How's Zack doin'?"

He fishes a pipe out of his pocket, along with a small pack of matches.

"I wouldn't know. We're not on the best terms right now. I haven't spoken to him since my accident."

"That's too bad," he says through harsh, cloudy breath. "But it happens to the best of us. I guess you could say that's why I ended up in a nursing home."

"Happens to the best of us.."

"Sure enough," he says, chuckling. He bites down on the mouthpiece of the pipe to hold it in place while he strikes another match and starts puffing. "You know, it's a long and weary road people like us walk down."

"Yeah.."

"At the end of it, you're dead tired, sore, your shoes are worn out and you're starvin'. Dyin' of thirst. Best you can do is enjoy the scenery."

"What scenery?"

"Just look out yonder window," he says, pointing to the curtains on the other side of him.

Make my way over and slide it back.

An empty alleyway, save for a few trashcans and scattered pieces of debris.

"It may not look like much," he says, removing the pipe from his mouth and exhaling plumes of thick smoke. "But it's definitely somethin'"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Give it time, kiddo. You hang in there long enough, and you'll see."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't. I can just tell you what works for me."

A stray cat emerges from behind the dumpster to my left and trots through the alleyway, and out of sight.

"Just know," he says, striking another match. "At the end of that walk, no matter how long or short, you finally do get to rest."

"Heh."

Close the curtain and turn back to face him.

"How's your mother doing?"

I take another hit from the bottle.

"Fast asleep," I say. "Way of the road, right?"

"Right," he says, smiling at me. "Exactly right."

For whatever reason, this makes me smile, too.

* * *

"Come back an' see me sometime, Cody. I enjoyed your company."

"Sure thing, Mr. Moseby."

"And, Cody?"

"Yeah?"

"Try to keep your head above water. It'll never be as good as it should be. No matter how much you want it to, or how hard you try. It's just not in the cards for people like us."

"...Thanks."

* * *

That was the last time I spoke to Mr. Moseby.

It was on a Tuesday.  
Three days later, I got a call.

He must have seen it coming, because he instructed the staff to contact me, and give me everything.  
Everything he had.  
There wasn't much. Most of what he had held no other value than sentimental.

I was the only one at his funeral. There was a ceremony, but he was cremated. They asked me if I wanted to keep his ashes. I didn't have enough to pay for an urn, so I dumped him in an empty whiskey bottle. I figured he'd be alright with that, long as there was a place he could look out.

When I got home, I cried for awhile, then sorted through the boxes.  
Pictures of the old days. Plaques. Awards. Trinkets.

And at the bottom of the last box, an unloaded silver revolver.

I never would have thought him the type to own a gun.

* * *

For two days after the funeral, I sat by my window, staring out at the streets below.  
Drinking and smoking out of Mr. Moseby's pipe.

They say he died in his sleep.  
They say he went very peacefully.

It kind of breaks my heart that he left all this stuff to me. I've only seen him once in the past nine years.

He must have had nobody else to pass this stuff along to.

I think about his words. This road has been very long and very hard on me. My lifeless legs ready to give out on me. My body, every inch of it sore. Worn. I'm thirsty, hungry and tired. I consider myself at least a little bit lucky that there isn't anyone left to give a shit if I just lay down and rest at this point.

I smile, but it's not a happy one.

Haven't slept in three days.

Set the gun down on the desk and wheel over to my bed. With some effort, I drag myself up onto the mattress.

Stare at the cracks of the ceiling that I'm not longer even familiar with.  
Hold my breath and wait for unconsciousness to take me away.

* * *

Flash.

* * *

The car swerves off the road.

* * *

Flash.

* * *

Tumbling through the darkness. Glass shattering all around me, digging deep into my skin.  
My face. My neck.

Frame of the car crushing, compacting around me.

Body being tossed around like a ragdoll. Bones cracking and forcing their way through my skin.

Immense pain.

Then, everything stops. Everything is quiet.

* * *

Flash.

* * *

In my bed. Upper half convulsing. I can hear myself moaning and screaming.  
Crying.  
Convulsing.

The cracks of the door to the living room, spilling trace amounts of light in. Foot steps out of a shadow. Moving silhouettes obscuring what little light is peeking in under the door.

They seem to melt into a black cloud that slowly creeps through the cracks of the door and reforms right there, before me.  
It almost looks human. But it's not.  
At the end of its arms, long knife-like claws extend towards me.

It looks down at me silently.  
Watching. Waiting.

Remember to breathe..

* * *

Flash.

* * *

"What are you?"

"I don't... I'm not sure I understand."

She looks at me, her eyes a bright yellow.

"What were you thinking, Cody?"

"What do you mean?"

She smiles. Her forked tongue dancing across the tips of her sharp, dingy teeth.

"Did you think any of it would last?"

"I..."

She advances, grabbing me. Pushing me over. Pinning me."

"Did you ever really think you _deserved_ me?"

"N-no."

"Did you really think I wanted to put up with your bullshit forever, Cody?"

Her voice dry and ragged, like she's been smoking all night. Her breath hot on my face.

I can't stop crying.  
I can't stop shaking.

"Do you think that _anybody _does?"

Her twisted smile getting closer and closer.

Please stop.  
Please go away.  
You've hurt me enough, why the fuck can't you just leave me alone?

Heart pounding.  
Breath racing.  
Am I dead? Is this hell?

I close my eyes and everything goes quiet, except for my own hyperventilation.  
I go numb and slowly open my eyes to see-

Bailey.

Not like before. Not a monster.  
Just Bailey.

"Oh, Cody," she says, looking sown at me with sorrowful eyes. "I love you so much, baby. Please don't ever leave me."

What is this?  
Am I insane?

I look into her eyes and see sincerity.

"I won't Bailey. I promise."

"My Cody," she says.

I melt.

"My Bailey.."

She leans in and her lips meet mine.  
Connection. My mind goes blank. Her tongue sliding between my lips. I accept it willingly. A soft moan escaping my mouth into hers.

Her teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip.  
Closing gently around it.

And suddenly, it's like razors sinking into the skin on my face.

A muffled scream - from me, to her, as she tears my flesh away from my skull.

My hands shoot up to my mouth and I look up at her - back in her monstrous form.  
My blood leaking down her chin. Staining her smile.

She's laughing hysterically - laughing at me.

I try to scream again, but there is no sound.

* * *

Flash.

* * *

She stands next to the shadow. My body still convulsing. I can't control it, no matter how hard I try. The window to my right, getting wider and wider and wider and lightening strikes from outside, flashes of light intruding my room and she's still laughing, fucking laughing at me with that stupid fucking grin on her face and I hear screaming, screaming from all directions, and it's driving me mad as i try try try so hard to get up to get out to FUCKING RUN AWAY to escape this hellish nightmare i just want it to stop i just want it to

* * *

Flash.

* * *

The patter of rain against a window.  
Open my eyes, and I'm in the passenger seat of Zack's car.

"Zack...?"

He's driving. He doesn't take his eyes off the road.

"You finally up?"

Adjust my eyes. Can barely see the road through the thickness of the rain.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"Are you okay, Cody?"

"You seem.. detached."

"Bad dreams."

"Oh? Wanna talk about them?"

"I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Suit yourself."

"Where are we going?"

"You don't remember, Cody?"

"No..."

A smile slowly stretches across his face.  
He doesn't say anything.

"What..?"

I feel... funny.  
Intoxicated.  
Not drunk. This is unlike anything I've ever experienced.

"What's going on, here?"

His foot presses down hard on the accelerator, causing my body to jolt back in my seat.

"Zack?"

"We're almost there," he says, smiling. "Don't worry."

"Where?"

He turns and smiles at me, his eyes glowing a bright red. His jagged teeth spread across his face.

"The end of the road, Cody. The end of the road."

* * *

Flash.

* * *

THEIR LAUGHTER is like nAILs on a CHALkBOARD screeching incessant **noise** _tearing _**me apart**.

I've lost myself, the world around me and everything I held dear.

From the foot of my bed, a rotting blue hand stretches upward before me.  
My mother's ring.  
Her rotting corpse, rising in front of my eyes. Neck bleeding profusely.

She smiles with missing teeth.

Her blackened, bruised eyes swollen shut.  
Twitching.  
Screaming.  
Convulsing.  
Crying.  
And  
I  
can't  
stop  
any  
of  
it.

if i'm not already dead

**please just kill me.**

Light flashing through the window and they disappear.  
The window getting wider and wider until I am consumed by darkness.  
Eyes rolling around in my head.  
Still in bed. Rain begins pelting against my vulnerable body, soaking me. Soaking everything.

Lightning flashing above me. Bed begins to shift slightly, exposing the city lights beneath me.  
Heart pounding.  
Breath racing.  
Scared witless of heights, but gravity doesn't take me. I just watch the buildings below pass me by, bed corkscrewing through the sky. The adrenaline rush that you experience on a roller coaster ever-present.

I begin to calm down, and I stop twitching. Body goes limp. Breath slowing, I start to relax.

Cars and people like ants living their lives before me. Stories of tragedy, comedy, horror and romance that I will never be able to experience. That I will never be able to know. That I will never be able to appreciate.

Sigh and close my eyes as gravity snatches me from the comfort of my bed.

As I fall, it finally dawns on me that there is nothing to fear in death,  
save for the momentary pain.

By the end of all, fear will have been forgotten. All love lost. All emotions and experienced events rendered meaningless.

For the first time in my existence, I embrace this and close my eyes.

* * *

Eyes pop open.  
Ceiling. Mine.  
Drenched in sweat.  
Hyperventilating.  
Trembling.  
Soaked.  
Completely numb. Nerves paralyzed.  
Too scared to even try to move.

Is this real...?

* * *

Slide the bullets into the gun one at a time. Each one with my name carved into the side of the casing.

One.  
Two.  
Three.  
Four.  
Five.  
Six.

I'll only need one, but call me a perfectionist, if you must. Or obsessive compulsive.

Is a legend that nobody knows still a legend?  
Hard to say.

One drink for the end of the road.

Drain the tumbler and set it down next to the gun.

Lean back and light one last cigarette. Smoke it slowly, enjoying it.

Fish a fresh stack of paper out of the drawer, and I start writing.  
I tell my story to nobody in particular. Write my legend down in perfect cursive.

This is where I am now, this is what you're reading. Who you are, I don't know. What you make of all of this is a mystery as well. Perhaps you understand this madness better than I. If I was still alive by the time you read this, maybe you could tell me where I went wrong. Maybe you could fill me in on all the ways I fucked up.  
But I won't be.

This gun, my god. I, the god of the content you are reading. Is it true? About as true as I'm willing to admit.

I will put the gun to the side of my head and close my eyes. Thumb the hammer back, and I will start to pray.

I am no longer a religious person, but I will pray anyway.

I will pray that it doesn't hurt too badly.  
I will pray that this fixes things.  
I will pray for rest.  
I will pray for peace.  
I will pray for everyone and everything in my lifetime that I've had an impact on.

And when I'm done praying, I'll pull the trigger.

Please forgive me.


	9. purplewowies

_**A/N: This story is a reworked version of my original plan for chapter 4 of my story, **_**Never Come Back**_**. I decided it wouldn't fit well in that story, but I realized it works much better as a standalone dream story. So, anyway, here it is.**_

**Nightmare in Elm City  
**by purplewowies

I have no idea where I am. It's dark and I hear screaming.

And there's pain. So. Much. Pain. It courses through my veins and has penetrated every cavity of my body. I can't move and I have no idea what is going on. The pain is so much that it's all I can do to try to use my one unaltered sense, listening, to figure out what's happening. I manage to make out someone saying something about I-95 and Exit 5.

I'm in New Haven. What am I doing there?

I try to make out other parts of the faraway speech, but it's being rendered unintelligible by the music blaring out of the radio. "Never Alone." What strange irony.

I hear voices getting closer to me. One is male, the other female. The man says something I can't decipher because of everything that's going on around and within me. He touches my arm, presumably attempting to get me to safety, but the woman speaks up. "No! Don't touch him!" she chastises. "Moving him might hurt him worse if he's got a head or back injury!"

What is she, a nurse?

So the man leaves me in the middle of the road and relative silence encompasses me.

Awhile later, a few screams pick up again as sirens wail into my conciousness.

The talking starts to return as well, but it seems to be getting farther and farther away.

In an instant, I feel hands all over my body. All of my bones feel like they've broken into a thousand pieces, and every time someone touches me, pain radiates into my every thought.

The people that the hands belong to are probing me more than a TSA employee, but I'm powerless to stop them. The people say things, but it sounds like they're speaking in a different language, even though I know they're not. My head feels as if a giant has accidentally stepped on it.

The people have moved me onto some sort of bed or something.

The sounds are beginning to fade.

I feel the thing I'm lying on lift up. It's much quieter now, but that might just be because I'm gradually hearing less and less. I feel peace encompassing me for the first time I can remember; where was I before I came here anyway? All the pain is gone, and I don't have a care in the world. There's something I can't describe pulling me back towards the pain and confusion, but my thoughts have become too jumbled and incoherent to even try to think about it. I have a vague sensation that something bad has happened, but then, all of a sudden I feel and think absolutely nothing.

I'm out.

* * *

Cody Martin awoke with a start. He shifted in the uncomfortable chair he had practically become glued to as he thought about the dream he had just had. It was so much like the many other dreams he'd had since he came here, yet somehow, there was something different about this one. He had never been blind and unable to move in any of the other ones, and the pain had felt so real. He would rather have had his arms and legs cut off than feel that pain for even one second.

He looked over at his brother, who lay in the bed next to him. There had been no change since yesterday. He grasped Zack's hand and stared intently at his once-strong older brother's face. Nothing.

It was all just a dream...

wasn't it?


	10. purplewowies II

_**A/N: Self-harm included. Some assembly required. :P**_

**Delusion  
**by purplewowies

_"Would it make you feel better to watch me while I bleed?" -_ Demi Lovato, Skyscraper

Cody sat in his room thinking about the day.

It was the same as all the others.

No one hung around with him. No one cared about him. Nobody liked having him around.

Nobody wanted him.

He thought about what his brother had said earlier that morning.

"Why don't you jump off the deck and find out?"

If only he knew just how much Cody thought about doing that almost every day, maybe he wouldn't have said that.

Zack never cared how Cody felt.

To him, Cody was the sister he never wanted. The nerdy one. His clone who had no personality.

He was not a person, but an object to be ridiculed. Something his brother could criticize and cut to his every whim.

Cut.

Zack didn't know about that, either.

It probably helped that Cody didn't do it in places where anyone could see. Wrists were for recreational cutters, the kind who were inexperienced, or those who did it to get attention.

He was more serious. He would never _dream_ of cutting his wrists. Or anywhere else not covered by some sort of clothing.

No, he cut in hidden places, namely his upper legs.

And he did it in the bathroom. With the door locked. In the middle of the night. And afterward, he meticulously scrubbed the bathroom until it was sparkling. Even one drop of blood could let someone in on the secret.

He didn't want anyone to know.

Not that anyone looked at him long enough to be able to see scars anyway.

And he was experienced, too. He knew precisely when a cut became dangerous, and he never took it that far.

He had tried to stop cutting for a while.

He had worn a rubber band on his wrist.

He said he snapped it when he thought about Bailey.

But that was a lie. (He had managed to get rid of that annoying nose twitch, so no one knew.)

In reality, he was snapping it when he thought about himself.

And how pathetic

and worthless

he was.

How he hadn't deserved Bailey.

And at the end of the day, snapping his wrist hadn't been enough.

So he had given the rubber band to Zack and gone back to cutting.

But at the end of the week, cutting was never enough, either.

But he couldn't bring himself to do more harmful things like burning or choking himself.

So he turned to suicidal thoughts.

He planned it out several times. He knew exactly what he would do right down to the letter (though he blamed this more on his obsession with perfection than anything else).

He thought up methods where he felt no pain.

And when he was feeling particularly sadistic, he thought up methods where he felt a lot of pain.

Because he deserved to.

And he would inch closer

and closer

and closer to doing it.

Then, one day,

his entire life would change.

He felt better about himself. People cared about him.

And he was happy. Very happy.

Sometimes extremely happy.

And he loved every minute of it.

But it was short-lived.

And when he settled back into sadness, he wondered at the mirthfulness of it all.

Why had he been so happy?

What in his godforsaken life could have motivated him _at all_ to be happy?

How could he possibly deserve to feel any sort of feeling remotely similar to joy?

He sincerely hoped Woody wouldn't feel the need to come to the room early this afternoon.

Because he was feeling immensely suicidal today.

It was times like this that he made detailed plans for how he would kill himself.

But today, he was too tired.

So he simply flopped onto his bed and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

You open your eyes, expecting to see your bleak, dark room.

But that's not what you see.

You're on the Sky Deck.

It's dark.

And raining.

The tears from the sky mask the tears of your mind.

And you're all alone.

Like you always are.

Better that way, anyway.

No one understands you.

They don't want to be seen with you.

Or at least that's the way it seems.

They only come to you if they need something like homework.

Then they leave all too soon.

They'd be better off if you died.

You stand there as you let the sky's teardrops soak you to your core.

For some strange reason, you find yourself thinking about happiness.

Which is odd, because it's been quite a long time since you were happy, and you scarcely remember how it feels.

Perhaps the happiness was nothing but a dream. A fantasy. A mere figment of your imagination.

Dream or not, what you do remember about being happy is that you did a lot more. You took a million classes and passed them all with flying colors.

You had actual friends that actually hung out with you.

You had a girlfriend.

Now, you have nothing.

No matter how hard you work, you'll never amount to anything.

You are worthless, and you know it.

Thunder and lightning cascade from the dark cloud above your head and break your train of thought.

You cross the deck to look over the railing.

The sea is black and speckled with raindrops.

You think to yourself that storms always make the water look deeper than it is.

And you like that.

You try to consider not jumping in, but sweet death is all you want.

And you don't stop yourself from pulling your body onto the other side of the railing.

And then you're falling.

You thought you were dreaming.

But if you were dreaming, wouldn't you have woken up?

Your body hits the water, and you startle, expecting to feel the freezing abyss coat your body and suck the life out of you. But that's not what you feel.

The water's... hot.

You realize you're in the hot tub, and the cover is on top of you.

The tub is _supposed_ to be empty, and you are _not_ supposed to be inside.

But it isn't, and you are, and that's that.

You take a deep breath. You could die a nice, peaceful death in here, alone with your thoughts. You close your eyes.

And drops of unforgiving and unyielding depression like daggers descend upon you once again. You open your eyes.

You might as well have not wasted the energy. You see nothing but pitch-black. But you feel eyes on you.

Bailey walks into your line of vision. She looks at you with a look that could kill a small child as she circles you like a hungry vulture. She opens her mouth and begins to berate you.

"I don't know how I could've ever dated you. I let those stupid Hannah Montana tickets blind me to the truth. I never loved you. You don't deserve me. I would sooner go out with Zack, Woody, or even London before I'd ever even think about you again."

Her words slice through you like the things you use to cut yourself in the dark of night. Your spirit is carved open like the veins and arteries of your legs as the sweet fluid that contains your life pours out into the world.

Bailey disappears.

In her place, you now see London. She, like Bailey, glares at you as she walks around your pitiful form.

But just when you think she's going start digging her words into you, she instead takes her long, manicured nails and drags them down the length of your arms. She then does the same to your face. Your blood pours out, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn't feel good.

London is gone.

You have little more than a second to process what just happened before Zack descends before you, just inches from your face. He spews reams of insults at you.

"I hate you. Always have. I bet I even hated you in the womb. You didn't deserve to be made from _my _DNA." He pauses, then rolls his eyes and smirks before he continues. "'Specially since you're pretty much bipolar now. I wish you'd die a slow, painful death. In fact, I'd rather kill you than let you have the satisfaction of committing suicide. You'd like killing yourself too much. You are the worst thing that's ever happened to the world."

He stops.

You stand there, lugubrious, as you wait for him to disappear so you can cave in from this blow alone. But he doesn't disappear. Instead, his face contorts into a terrifying expression as he jumps at you.

You close your eyes.

* * *

Cody let in a small gasp as he opened his eyes. He hated having dreams like that. They were worse than suicide. After those dreams, he just wanted his life to be over.

And now, he was finally ready to actually end it all. He grabbed the pocketknife Dad had given to him for his 17th birthday. It had never been used. He figured now was as good a time as any. It would be more painful than a razor, yes, but it would also do more damage.

He brought the knife closer to his arm.

Then the door opened.

"Hey, Cody! I thought we could all—" Zack froze. Cody was holding the knife mere millimeters from his arm. He looked up at Zack with an indifferent expression on his face. He had been found out by the one person he wanted most to keep this secret from.

Zack struggled to regain his ability to speak. "What are you doing?" he said, his voice barely audible.

"I just want it all to end. I should just jump off the deck like you told me to this morning. I don't deserve to live," Cody said quietly as a lone tear slid down his cheek, the first emotion he had shown since Zack entered the room.

"Is that what this is about? You have to know I didn't mean it like that," he said, still not speaking any louder than a whisper.

"It's not just that."

Zack took a seat beside Cody on the bed and removed the knife from his hand. "Then what is it?"

Cody grabbed the leg of his shorts and pulled it up, revealing several scars on his upper leg. Some were old, others were very fresh. "I've felt this way a long time," he said succinctly with a sigh.

Zack stared at the scars in disbelief before speaking again. "Why?" he said, his voice breaking.

"No one wants to hang out with me. Nobody wants to do things with me. I'm constantly made fun of. People only want to be friends with me so they can use me for things like homework."

Zack's mind slumped over. He had done some of the very things that made his brother feel this way. Cody continued.

"And I'm never good enough. Not for Bailey, not for Dad, not for Mom... not for you." he finished.

"What are you talking about? Of course you're good enough. You're smart, good-looking—and that's not just because of me," Zack started, trying to make a joke, but he quickly moved on when Cody glared at him, "and you're funny when you want to be. And unlike me, you've managed to keep tons of girls for more than five days," he ended.

"That doesn't mean anything when no one wants to be friends or hang out with you," Cody replied.

"Well... _I_ wanna hang out with you. In fact, I came over to ask you to come to the pool on the Lido Deck with me and Woody. I know you think pools are gross, but I figured we needed to have a little fun. You don't even have to swim if you don't want to."

Cody smiled. "Sure," he said.

He didn't feel any better.

_"Why do we do that? Why do I do that? Why do I do that?" _- P!nk, Perfect


	11. tiger002 II

**Fall**

Cody tossed and turned in his sleep, calculus equations, history facts, and Spanish phrases filling his mind, his memory doing everything it could to fight through the overload, trying to take it all in.

His brow was sweaty, his breaths hasty and his heart exhausted.

Finals, every student's worst nightmare.

But he knew he had to ace them. All through high school, both back and Boston and now on the ship, he had maintained a perfect 4.0 average. And now, here he was, one week of exams between him and a perfect academic record.

He was so close, so close to his dream, but he also knew it was just one step away from wasting all of it.

He wouldn't let that happen, though.

He had come too far, worked too hard, studied too much to lose it all now.

He woke up again, his restless mind refusing to sleep for longer than a few minutes. He gazed at the clock, seeing it was 4 AM. This was getting ridiculous. He was only asleep for 17 minutes that time. Now, at this rate, he'd only get a total of 3.7 hours of sleep for the night, a far cry from the 8.4 he functioned best on. And with only one more day before finals started, he had to do a careful rereading and editing of his AP Biology paper still, knowing he'd be a laughing stock if he didn't catch all the typos or confused a mitochondria for manganese again. He knew taking collage level bio and chem. together wasn't going to be easy, but with enough work, he knew he could pull it off.

At least he hoped he could.

Those two were certainly the hardest classes, though advanced US History, Calc 2, Advanced Spanish and Western Literature were far from easy. Things got really weird when his mind went to combine them, though he noticed that Shakespeare's sonnets had some interesting rhythms in Spanish.

He pulled the blankets up over his head, trying to rest in the cocoon of his bed and block out the bright lights of his alarm clock that would be going off far too soon.

Still, no matter what position he found himself in, he wasn't comfortable, his leg would cramp, or arm would need stretching, or something. His mouth was dry, so he got up and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, hoping that would allow him to sleep, but as he was up, he noticed how hot the room was. He looked to his sleeping roommate, wondering how he could sleep so soundly.

Then he remembered.

Woody was content with just passing. He knew he wasn't going to ace the upcoming exams, but that didn't worry him. He did enough work to pass, and didn't worry about those missed questions or forgotten assignments. It disgusted Cody how he could be so carefree. He pitied his friend, missing such great potential. But, Cody felt something else, deep within, a feeling that he'd never think he could have for someone like Woody.

Envy.

He envied his friend, how he could live with so little stress. He was so carefree. He knew Woody was wasting away his time at school, missing the point of acquiring the tools he needed to change the world.

But Woody had fun with those useless activities. He embraced every event on the ship, from him and Zack taking on the elderly champions in the shuffleboard tournament to karaoke night in the Caribbean Club. True, he couldn't sing, but he and Zack put on one heck of a show.

But Cody could never join them. He was too busy ensuring that his grades wouldn't drop. He was pushed to his limit, forced to study harder than ever before, and abandon what his friends called fun.

He brushed the thoughts away and returned to his bed, demanding that his mind calm down enough to finally go to sleep. After another ten minutes of tossing and turning, he finally drifted off.

And then he dreamt.

…

Cody opened his eyes, a sky blue wind blowing across him, a gentle chill in it. He looked before him, and saw a tree, climbing high into the sky. The sky had darkened, the sunlight fading, but there was just enough illumination for him to see.

And then the music started.

A song he never heard but one that he knew deep in his soul filled the air.

He gazed on, but a spectator to the events unfolding.

And there before him were two boys, those that filled the photographs on his desk. He smiled seeing them, the younger versions of himself and Zack, no older than 12.

_A challenge ahead_

_A tree to climb_

_For our destiny_

_Give it one more try_

With determination the younger twin looked ahead, took the branch in hand and lifted himself up. One foot in front of the other he climbed. He smiled.

Zack soon joined him, catching up to his brother, though not easily. He wasn't about to lose though.

He caught up with his brother, and seeing the chance, grabbed his ankle.

The younger twin fell, colliding on the ground with a gentle thud.

_Rise up my friend_

_The Fall is not the end_

Gazing up, the younger twin looked on, unshaken by this minor defeat. Thrilled by the challenge, he climbed again, the wind blowing around him pushing him higher, farther. Before he knew it, he caught up with his brother, and with a confident grin across his face he reached out.

Zack was quicker though, pulling his foot away just in time.

_Though the climb may be hard_

_You gotta carry on._

The twins continued ascending the endless tree, avoiding the branches in the way and the leaves scattered about.

A raven flew by, avoiding the tree altogether and soaring into the sunset.

Eventually, the weaker twin caught up again, and with a powerful grip on his brother's ankle, Zack lost his grip.

He fell this time.

_Through difficulties we face_

_And the struggles we endure_

_One day I know_

_We will Soar._

Not to fall easily though, Zack reached out, and grabbed his brother. He smiled, a wicked-fun grin. He could stabilize himself and they'd both continue on their quest for the mile high top. But that wasn't as much fun.

So Zack grabbed his brother, and together they fell.

The leaves of fall fell around them with all their wondrous color.

Cody looked on, seeing this great tragedy unfold, of a brother's heartless disdain for his best friend.

But then he heard it.

The laughter.

He saw it.

The joy.

And as the song finished, he too smiled.

_My rival and my friend_

_With me till the end_

_Together we try_

_And I know we will fly_

…

Cody awoke from his dream, his heart still racing, it all seeming so real to him. He held his hand to his heart, the song still playing in his head despite the face he knew it wasn't real. But, what did it mean?

Was he too nervous because of school so his dreams had become weird? That had happened before; his dreams had gotten really weird the night before that big math competition. He dreamt he was being eaten by the quadratic formula. He couldn't look at a discriminate without wanting to run for weeks.

But this dream was different.

It wasn't scary, or sad, or all these normal things that made him remember dreams.

This dream was happy.

It didn't make sense why; it wasn't anything special, just the strange way the mind wanders when sleeping.

But still, Cody just sat on his bed, looking at the desk and the piles of books and notes that sat upon it. He then saw his alarm clock and that it read 7:28. Only two minutes before he had to get up and get back to work.

He decided to get up now, knowing two minutes of rest wouldn't do much good now. Though, instead of the normal tiredness his body felt when he didn't get the right amount of sleep, he felt energized, and ready to face the day. After shutting his alarm clock off (to make sure Woody didn't follow through in his threat to hit it with a hammer) he got dressed and instead of going to cram more facts into his head, he decided to leave the room without a book for the first time in a week.

He found his way up to the sky deck, gazing out as the sun set the sea on fire as it did every morning, though he had been too busy to notice it recently. And while he knew the beauty it held, he wondered why he couldn't take the time to see this more often.

Then he remembered he never had the time.

Recently he had always either been studying, sleeping, or getting ready for class.

He started to head back for his room, grateful for the cleared head and decided that he shouldn't neglect small things like this through the midst of all his study.

As he rode the elevator back down, he just leaned back against it, thinking. Not rushing it to save him precious seconds.

And as he took several calm breaths the doors opened not a moment too late.

He then saw Zack getting out of his room, his gaze darting nervously around the hallway telling Cody that his brother was up to no good.

He knew he had to stop Zack before he got them both in trouble. (He wasn't sure why Moseby always blamed him too; it had been a long time since had been foolish enough to get involved with Zack's hijinks.)

"What are you doing?" Cody asked causing Zack to try to hide something behind his back.

"What are you doing up so early? I thought you weren't going to leave your room until 9 because you had to study more."

"And you don't like getting up till noon. Zack, you're doing something that's probably breaking at least one law."

"Fine," Zack said finally revealing what he held.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep, the classic hundred dollar bill on a string trick."

"Where did you get the hundred dollar bill from?" Cody quickly took out his wallet out to make sure all the money that was supposed to be in it was.

"Oh, I just told London that the hundreds that she got had been contaminated with extofornutalus disease and that if she was around them too long she would get fat."

"Zack, you can't do-"

"I'll split them with you if you keep it a secret."

"Sounds good." Cody wasn't sure how much money that was his, but he wasn't going to object to free money.

"Okay, I'll see you later, and if Moseby asks…"

"I never saw you."

Cody smiled as he made his way back to his room. Not the smile for when he got a good grade, or when he had solved a hard math problem. No, this smile was filled with amusement at his brother, eagerness to see what Zack had planned, and the thrill of helping his brother get away with it.

Maybe this was immature.

Maybe it was childish.

Maybe it would be fun.

Cody thought about his dream.

The pure joy in it.

The joy that he wanted to have again.

"Wait Zack."

"Yeah," he said as the elevator once again took forever to get there.

"Mind if I join you?"

Zack smiled.

"Just don't get in my way."

…

The plan was set.

Foolproof.

Cody even added a number of extra tricks to make Mosbey's life more interesting.

"Are you sure we got everything?" Cody asked, nervous that they might get caught still. Though he couldn't wait to see that vein throb in the manager's forehead and to know he was the cause of it.

True, it went against what he believed in, but there was a time and place to have fun.

And this was it.

"Yep, thanks to you we have everything set up, and thanks for the idea to use those gloves to avoid leaving finger prints."

"Here he comes," Cody whispered and the two of them ducked behind the juice bar. Zack flipped a switch on a spy cam so they could clearly see Moseby's reaction.

"Zack, where are you?" the manager growled as he walked across the sky deck while taking a sip of his coffee.

Just on schedule.

Zack knew that Moseby would be checking to make sure he was working at exactly 5 minutes after his shift started. He had been late enough times to know how long he had until anyone noticed.

"I should have known, his last shift of the year and he's not here." He leaned against the counter and pulled out his phone, something that made the twins' eyes light up.

With adrenaline-propelled movement, Zack reached into his pocket and knocked the battery out of his phone. Zack nodded to his brother seeing that they were safe from the manager less than a foot away.

"Let's hope Cody knows where that hooligan is," Moseby said as he held the phone up to his ear.

Zack cursed to himself, knowing that there plan was ruined.

Cody wasn't ready to give up yet; his phone normally waited about 11 seconds after the person called to start ringing. They still had time.

Not much, but maybe enough.

As quietly as possible, Cody got out from under the juice bar and ran behind Moseby right before his phone started ringing.

"Cody, what are you doing up here so early?"

"Oh, just looking for Zack. He borrowed my iPod and I needed it back. I thought he might be here working."

Moseby lowered his eyebrow at Cody. "Zack, working?" He began laughing.

"Figured it was worth a shot." Cody shrugged his shoulders; his heart feeling like it was going to burst from his chest. He almost thought it was funny how much better he had gotten at lying. How he could cave at a single glance from his mom or dad and tell all his secrets. But here, he was able to lie to Moseby without flinching. Though, he could sense he was rushing his voice just a bit.

"Well when you find him tell him to get up here before I fire him."

"That won't really do much since this is his last shift here."

"I meant from a cannon."

Cody slowly made his way back to the elevator while as inconspicuously as possible kept turning around waiting for Moseby to finally find the money. He hated to put all that work in getting it set up without seeing fruits of his labor. But just as he pressed the button on the elevator, he heard Moseby take note of the money.

"What do we have here?" he said bending down to pick it up but right as he did so, Zack pulled it away with the invisible wire.

Annoyed, but not yet suspicious, he took a few steps forward after it, hitting a trip wire which threw him off balance. As he tried to stabilize his footing, the sound of a very high-pitched scream filled the air, making him nearly fall over. His foot found itself upon a skateboard, which sent him rolling forward, his arms and legs flailing trying to maintain control of his body. It was pointless as the skateboard propelled him into the side of the hot tub with enough force to toss him into the hot tub headfirst.

While he tried to get back to the surface, Zack ran across the deck to the elevator door Cody was holding open, and with less than a second before Moseby reemerged, the door closed leading the twins to safety.

"Dude, that was so awesome," Zack said, out of breath between the laughter and the running.

"You know he's going to kill you, though."

"Eh, I'll just blame it on Woody again."

"Again?"

"Don't ask."

…

Cody sat in his room and smiled. Books were open on his desk which he had skimmed a few pages of, but he knew he was kidding himself if he thought he could get through everything he had planned on yesterday. But as he thought about it, it was okay. He had wanted to eliminate every possibility of things going wrong, to know the answer to any question his teachers could throw at him, but he knew that was futile and pushing himself way too hard. Instead, he'd do everything he could to enjoy his last few days on the ship. He still wanted to do well on the finals; it was just that, he knew that sometimes there were more important things.

"Hey Cody," Zack said, bursting into his brother's room.

"Will you ever learn to knock?"

"Don't count on it."

Cody rolled his eyes.

"So what's going on?"

"Well I know you said you didn't want us to bother you so you could study, but there's a party up on the sky deck and thought you might want to join us. After all, we'll be graduating in just a few days."

Cody got up from his chair and closed the biology book closed. "Sounds like fun."

"Wait, you mean I don't get to have fun bugging you until you finally decide to come just to shut me up?"

"I'm sure we'll have time for that this summer. Besides, I think there might be such a thing as too much studying."

"Wow, I could have told you that long ago and you're the smart twin."

"Yes, but quitting just because you are bored isn't the way to go about it."

Cody didn't feel like arguing anymore, so went out the door, knowing that he and Zack would probably get into an argument and waste what was left of the day. This might be the last time he'd just be able to relax on the ship. He thought about the three years that had flown by, but before he let that sink it too much, he went down the hallway to the elevator, not willing to lose the present in nostalgia.

"What's gotten into you anyway?" Zack asked as the elevator.

Cody knew Zack would think he was crazy for letting a dream affect him this much; heck, he thought he was crazy, but even so, he felt something in it. Maybe it was something deep inside, that he had buried under all the knowledge and stress that could only find a way out through a dream. Maybe it was a sign. Or maybe it was just the randomness that dreams produced.

No matter what though, he would hold onto it.

"I guess I just want to enjoy these last few days on the ship."

"Why all of a sudden, though?"

"You'll probably think I'm crazy though, but it's because of a dream I had."

"Really, what was it about?"

"Well I saw the two of us and we were climbing a tree, trying to get to the top first but kept knocking each other down."

"And that made you want to actually have fun how?"

"I don't know, Zack, it just did."

Cody knew how crazy this was. The dream didn't make sense, shouldn't be affecting him this much. He was just cracking from too much stress.

But did it matter why?

He was having fun, able to not worry about every little thing, so the rest wasn't important.

"Well, I'm glad to have you away from all those books, buddy." Zack placed his arm around Cody's shoulder. "We only get to live once."

"Maybe you're the smart twin after all."

"I knew one day you'd come around."

Cody just shook his head at Zack's comment. Though maybe there was some truth to that. Zack spent each day having fun, not worrying about the consequences. It was reckless and irresponsible, but was he any better? He worked as hard as he could in his classes, to do his very best, but he couldn't remember the last time he truly had fun through it.

"Can you do me a favor, Zack?"

"What?"

"Make sure I have some fun from time to time instead of just wasting so much time again."

Zack smiled. "I'll take that as a challenge."

Cody gave his brother a nervous look.

"Besides, we have this whole summer ahead of us before we go to college. I'll make sure we have one to remember."

"Thanks Zack."

Cody was afraid of what Zack had in mind, but didn't want to just stay safely away from everything. Maybe things wouldn't go smoothly, but that's what he wanted.

The elevator door opened and Cody saw all the festivities set out before them. Food, friends, and fun all for him to take in. But beyond all that, he saw his lovely girlfriend standing out at the edge of the sky deck staring out into the sea, her silk blue dress gently swaying in the wind.

"She didn't think you would come," Zack quietly told him. "Prove her wrong."

Cody walked up to her, wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed her neck. "You're beautiful."

She turned to face him, her face lighting up like the waters behind her. "You made it."

"I'm sorry for being too busy to spend much time with you," he said, sad to hear the shock in her voice.

"It's okay-"

"But let's make up for lost time," he said cutting her off as the music began playing.

"I'd like that."

Zack gazed on at his brother, proud that he could be there for Bailey. He knew those two love birds were crazy about one another, and hated for Cody to blind himself with school to see what was really important. He knew he had a lot to learn from his brother about studying and responsibility, but he was glad to see Cody learn something too. Perhaps there was a lot they had to learn from each other.

* * *

**A/N: And after more months than I care to admit, this story is finally finished! **

**The dream in this story was actually one I had about 4-5 years ago, watching the twins climb that tree with the song playing. Sadly, I couldn't remember much of the song, only part of the chorus which was "Rise up my friend, the fall is not the end" though several months later I was listening to the radio and heard Third Day's song Rise Up which had nearly those exact words so I'm guessing that was either in the dream or my memory was mixed the two songs. Anyway, I rewrote the song here, so the lyrics are my own. I actually have another version of the song on my fictionpress account, but I think I like this one better.**

**And thanks to Wyntirsno for betaing.**

**And I must say that I respect those that are able to write strong drama stories through many chapters. I had to force myself to finish this one-shot because I had a lot of trouble getting back into it after writing the dream. But it turned out pretty well I'd say.**


	12. woundedhearts II

Strange Happenings

woundedhearts

* * *

The clock on the nightstand read two in the morning when Maya was suddenly woken up from a deep sleep by something she couldn't quite grasp. A feeling that she couldn't ignore and couldn't quite understand. Something wasn't right.

Taking a look around, she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Everything was in its place and the room was as she'd left it the night before when she went to bed. Still, that nagging thought stayed with her. Sighing, she pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed as she then walked out into the hallway. Again, nothing was askew. The hall was dimly lit with the nightlight she kept near the corner of the room showing everything as it was supposed to be.

After taking a peek behind each door, she continued on downstairs. From her perch on the staircase, she could see the living room and again noted nothing. She was now beginning to wonder if she was going crazy. This was her home and she was the only one here; who did she expect to run into?

She got her answer as she turned the corner and flipped on the light switch. There was a figure of a woman sitting in one of the dining room chairs with her back to her. She nearly jumped in surprise and wondered what that hell was going on.

"Excuse me, hello."

There was no answer. The person remained quietly sitting in her seat as she read what appeared to be the morning paper. A thought that struck her as odd, considering it was the middle of the night.

"Hello." Nothing. No response whatsoever. "Who are you, and more importantly, what are you doing in my house?"

Either the woman was completely ignoring her or she honestly couldn't hear her. She didn't know which but this situation was getting more than a little frustrating. Still, she was leery of approaching the stranger. She searched her mind and wondered what could be going on. Was this woman ill? Maybe she was sleepwalking and didn't realize she wasn't in her own home. She'd read about cases like that in one of her books.

She looked around for a weapon just in case she was a psychopath there to murder her and found only her umbrella. Hoping that would work, she quietly stepped further into the room, a determined look on her face.

"You may want to put that down." Maya froze. "It won't do much good anyway."

"Who are you?"

The woman stayed silent for a few minutes more and continued to turn the page. Maya was about ready to pick up the phone next to the counter when she caught a glimpse of the woman's profile in the glass door. She gasped in surprise and took a step back.

"Who are you?" she managed to say again, though the sound came out hollow.

"You know who I am," the woman calmly told her as she turned toward her.

Maya still couldn't take her eyes off the person walking toward her. She wanted to run, to scream, to do something. She was so confused and scared out of her mind that she could only gasp as she stood there, paralyzed with fear.

"You can't run from yourself."

"This is a dream. Wake up. Come on, Maya, wake up," she whispered out loud, taking a minute to pinch herself only to realize that wasn't working. "I don't understand."

"You will," the woman told her. "Maya, look around. Where are you?"

"I'm at home."

"Try again. Concentrate," she stated. "Now tell me where you are," she added when Maya's eyes widened.

They were standing at the end of a pier that seemed to be millions of miles from the sand and beach. Tall mountains surrounded them on one side and the unending ocean on the other. There was no one else in sight. No sounds of anything but the waves beating against the pillars that kept the structure from collapsing. The sky was a gloomy overcast gray and there wasn't a bird in flight.

"What is this place?"

"You don't remember?"

"No, should I?" she asked, more than a little frightened.

"Let's take a walk."

"No, I'm not going anywhere with you. Not until you tell me who you are and where we are."

"That will come in due time. Right now I need you to trust me."

"Trust you? I don't even know you," Maya said, exasperated as the figure began walking toward the mountains. "One minute I'm standing in the dining room, and the next we're…here," she shouted as she ran to keep up with this person who looked like her.

"Yes we are."

"So where exactly is here?"

"You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" Maya forced herself not to panic.

"You created this place."

"Excuse me."

"In one of your stories."

"Um…no, I think I would have remembered if I'd created something like this. This place is freaky."

"Well, your mind tends to wonder where it will."

"That doesn't make sense," Maya stated. "I mean the mind thing makes sense, but me being here talking to myself doesn't."

"Why do you doubt your senses?"

"Because any little thing can…oh, you're good," Maya laughed. "I know what this is. I must have been reading _A Christmas Carol_ last night. Right, this is some kind of hallucination or dream based on that? Are you supposed to be Charles Dickens or something?"

"Again, the places your mind can take you is astounding."

"Are you saying we're in my head?"

"Exactly," the woman said. "Now we must hurry."

"Why?" Maya asked.

She didn't answer—just simply nodded toward the horizon. Maya froze in terror for coming toward them looked to be a massive wall of water engulfing the entire sky.

"Is that a…"

"Tsunami," she answered. "A very large tsunami. It represents what you are afraid of."

"Yeah…at the moment…drowning. Did I mention I never learned how to swim?"

"You're not afraid of drowning," she replied. "You'll figure it out soon enough. As for now, we have to go."

"No kidding," she cried as they took off running toward the mountains and off the pier.

To Maya's surprise, they made it back onto the beach in little time and were soon standing on the edge of a cliff that was now surrounded by water. As she looked around, Maya realized that she was standing on the only patch of land for miles around them.

"Well this is just perfect…" she was about to rant her opinions when she realized there was no one to rant to.

Where had the woman gone? Fear and loneliness overtook her and a disconcerting thought hit her. She was trapped. All by herself, no escape, no form of survival, and suddenly she felt light-headed. But, just as she thought she was about to pass out, she heard her name being called.

Sitting up, she realized she was in a different place. A forest of some kind and she was lying on the bank of a river. "Okay, I'm officially nuts," she whispered to no one in particular.

"You made it."

Maya whirled around on the woman. She stood up to give her a piece of her mind when she put up a hand as they heard a low menacing growl from a bush nearby.

"What was that?"

"You tell me."

"How am I supposed to know? Seriously!"

"Don't you understand? You created this. I'm just along for the ride."

"Well, your ride is about to end!" Maya exclaimed doing everything she could short of cutting off a limb to wake herself up. "Don't look at me like that."

"Well, if nothing else, I must say you are amusing."

"Gee, thanks," she answered sarcastically. "Now if you don't mind, I wanna wake up from this nightmare."

"That's not the way it works."

"And pray tell, how does it work?"

The low menacing growl began again and forced both women to look in its direction. "Alright, now would be a good time to run."

"Why run?"

"Low menacing growl from an animal that sounds like it could swallow us both in one gulp. Any other good reason you can think of?" Maya asked with a raised eyebrow.

Suddenly the bushes split and before them sat a striped tiger. Maya would have screamed if she weren't paralyzed by her fears. The beast eyed his next meal, licking his lips, already savoring the prey he'd yet to kill. Maya took a step back only to realize she was now in what appeared to be a den of some sort surrounded by several large cats. Her pulse raised and she could hear the intense beating of her heart inside her ear drums.

"Why are you so afraid?" the woman asked, standing beside her. Yet the animals' attentions still seemed set on her.

"Have you looked around?" she cried, panic stricken. "These aren't exactly your average everyday alley cats."

"Nothing in this place can harm you unless you let it."

"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Have you seen the teeth on these things?" Maya suddenly heard a cry to her right and couldn't quite make out where it was coming from.

She would have asked her traveling companion if she hadn't suddenly disappeared. 'Okay first things first,' she thought just as the tiger she'd first spotted charged toward her.

This time she did scream while covering her closed eyes with her arms. She stood there for a minute waiting for the killer to take his prize. But when nothing happened she opened them again and took a look around. She was no longer in a jungle, but a house she didn't recognize. The walls freshly painted and the living room furniture scattered around hidden beneath what appeared to be old bed sheets.

"You don't remember this place?"

"Would you cut the crap!" She bit back the urge to shake the woman. This was getting ridiculous. She was beginning to feel like a used yoyo some kid wouldn't put down long enough to take a break, and more importantly, give her a chance to think. "Let me guess, I created this place. Am I right?"

"No, this place is from your memory."

"But that's impossible. I would have remembered it." Maya looked around once more, still unable to recognize her surroundings. "Nothing, nada, zip…"

Before she could continue, a woman walked into the room and looked around her, sighing while she caressed her enlarged stomach. "It can't be…" Maya walked over to the woman and stood directly in front of her, uttering a single word: "Mom."

A single tear threatened to escape down her cheek and she had to take a step back to keep her emotions at bay. "She can't see me," she realized.

"No, she can't."

"Then why am I here?" Maya asked, heartbroken.

"Only you can answer that."

"Why are you being so goddamn cryptic? Answer a fuckin' question."

When she simply looked at her, Maya couldn't contain herself any longer and made a flying leap, only to land on something soft and wet. Looking below her, she realized she was on a beach. A wave crashing into her, forcing her to remain on her knees. When it subsided she stood and dusted herself off before heading away from the surf and toward what appeared to be a hotel of some sort.

She began walking toward the familiar building. Though why she recognized it, she couldn't fathom since she'd never laid eyes on it before. "Maya." Maya turned at the sound of her name and froze.

Her parents were standing in front of her, hugging, smiling and laughing, acting like newlyweds. Behind them, a little girl ran up to them, infected with giggles. "There you are, Maya," her mother smiled, kneeling down in front of the child.

Maya recognized the brown hair and the big brown eyes that belonged to the child she once was. That smiling face she once wore before reality tore her innocence apart, before the world became a dark, cold place that she had no choice but to be a part of. A life she was forced into, a dream that ended way too soon and without her consent. A reality so selfish it took her parents from her.

"Are we still going to see the dolphins?" she watched the young child ask her mother.

Maya didn't know where the tears came from, but suddenly they were running down her cheeks in droves.

"Please, you promised we could go today."

Maya searched her mind and really took in her surroundings. 'No, no, no, no, no, it can't be.' She turned to the woman who was sharing this journey with her. "Why now, why today?"

"I can't answer that."

"Then why are you here?" she shouted before the floor below her began to shake. "What's happening?"

"Your world is crumbling around you."

"Crumbling, but I can stop…"

"No you can't," she stated with sympathy. "This event has already taken place; therefore, it is what it is and can't be changed."

"Liar!" Maya cried. "Then it wouldn't make any sense for me to be here."

"You still don't understand," the woman solemnly said, shaking her head before quietly disappearing.

Maya found herself holding on to anything she could to stay on her feet. The woman was right, her world was crumbling around her, and try as she may, she couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. But why now? Why this?

This question kept popping up inside her when she once again found herself somewhere else. Maya looked up to see a wall of rock around them with a hole at the very top. If she didn't know any better she would guess they were in some kind of a crater.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking up, not having to question the fact that the other woman was standing near her.

"Inside a volcano," she very calmly replied. "Come, we need to hurry."

As Maya looked behind her, she realized the rock floor was shifting away, revealing what looked to be steaming hot lava. After the initial shock wore off, she took her cue and started running. Before she knew it she was hanging off the side of a ledge and looking down into the volcano's pit. To her horror, it looked like any moment the thing might burst.

"Help me!" she cried, looking up at her glancing over the edge and down at Maya.

"You can get yourself out," she answered with that holier-than-thou expression on her face. Maya wanted to rip it off but at the moment she couldn't because she was staring down at a pit of death.

"Help me," she pleaded, trying to keep her hands from sliding.

"Alright, give me your hand."

Maya did what was asked of her and reached out one of her hands for safety, but it was too late and she was now free falling down to her doom. Screaming at the top of her lungs and cursing like a sailor, she finally landed. She closed her eyes, expecting to be dead. Yet, she could move around, feeling the unmistakable warmth of a mattress. Opening her eyes, she sat up and realized she was home, and that one four-letter word sounded like music to her ears.

When her double walked into the room, she sat silent for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around what had happened. "I don't understand."

"Think about your experiences. What do they represent?"

Maya sat up abruptly, looking around, her dream finally a long-gone memory.

* * *

AN: I want to leave this open to interpretation. :)


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